Girls Und Panzer: The Cold War Games
by Scorch362
Summary: Saunders has been asked to come help teach the Americans Sensho-do after their decades long hiatus from the sport. But the west uses different rules. When its revealed who their final opponent will be, the pressure will be on. Could this be the start of a 2nd Cold war?
1. Die Einleitung

**So. Never thought I'd get back into fanfiction, but, it's been quite a while since the last time I posted something online... and almost as long since I felt like writing about anything that wasn't entirely original. But... like I said, it's been quite some time, time in which I like to believe I've improved, actually gotten together what makes a decent story. Even took some classes. So, I'm hoping that this will mark my return to fanfiction. I'm still going to write original stuff in the meantime and that will be my primary focus, perhaps I'll make some semi-crossovers with the characters from those original settings and other franchises. But for now, one project at a time, that I believe is what ruined my old account's record, taking on too many projects at once. (That and having no idea what makes a good story, just pulse pounding action, Michael Bay style.)**

**Disclaimer: I've only seen the anime, I've little to no intention on reading the mangas and while I may reference bits and pieces I've heard about it (Or read off the wiki) as far as I'm concerned, this is after "Der Film".**

**Disclaimer II: The story is rated T (14+) for language, violence, suggestive themes and politics (because I know _someone_ will get offended by it...)**

**So, with all said I give you the prologue to Girls und Panzer: Der Cold War Games. **

**(Now to offend people with the first scene... I swear it with be the only time this story gets this... _political_. It's just too easy.)**

* * *

**May 3rd, 2019 - Washington D.C**

SecDef J.D stood outside the doors to the oval office, he could hear muffled shouting on the other side of the doors. The president was at it again, barking insane orders to whatever staffer he managed to drag into the room with him. Insane orders, coming from a less than one-hundred percent sane man. SecDef really didn't want to enter while this was going on, but he'd just received a memo, straight from the ambassador in Russia. He couldn't make heads or tails of it, all it mentioned was that they would quote "Be delighted to host a match, we will give you until the new year, January the first, to be ready. Should you be unable to show up, we will consider it a forfeit." the message seemed to be intentionally vague and simple. Though on one hand, SecDef remembered who it was meant for.

"By god, this can't be good at all." he mumbled to himself before inhaling sharply and pushing aside the doors, steeling himself for the meeting he was about to force himself to have. "Mr. President!" SecDef exclaimed, walking in like he owned the place, attempting to assert himself, lest the president get distracted.

The president's son-in-law stood in one side of the room, arms crossed and gaze lowered like a child who'd just been given a stiff berating, meanwhile the president sat at his desk with papers in front of him, papers that SecDef knew hadn't been touched. Without another pause, SecDef raised his arm, holding the paper memo he'd received up for all to see.

"What's that, another boring paper?" the president asked. "And before you say it, yes I signed all the papers, so you can relax John."

SecDef raised his brow, "Did you now." he was highly skeptical. He stepped briskly towards the desk and looked down at the top paper. Sure enough, there it was, the presidential signature... SecDef moved the top few aside only to find exactly what he thought. "And the rest?"

"I was getting to 'em." replied the President.

SecDef sighed "I'm sure you were." he stated, unconvinced. "Now will you please explain what this is all about? I just got this from the ambassador to Russia, something about hosting a match." he then set the memo out on the desk in front of the president, looking at him expectantly.

The president signed back, not unlike a snarky teenager but for crying out loud the man was over seventy. "Alright, fine." and with his characteristic reluctance, POTUS took up the memo, holding it up to his face as he seemed to read it. "Oh! That's what this is." he lowered the paper, "So remember the Ukraine summit? While I was there, I extended an offer to the Russian President to face them in a Tanky Match. Thought it would be fun if we could just settle our differences in a way which we didn't have to kill people in. Tell them we'll need more details though. I want this match to be glorious. We're going to show them what America is capable of! Make Tanky Great Again!"

For a moment the SecDef was confused, Tanky? What the hell was that... then his confused expression went blank. "Wait... Tankery?"

"Yeah, that's it! I've already signed and sent paperwork to get this thing rolling. The AG's sending it to the Russians now I think." replied POTUS.

"WHAT?!" SecDef exclaimed, the shrillness of his voice betraying his age for a moment before he could clear his throat and regain his composure, if only slightly. "Mr. President, America hasn't taken part in Tankery since '89. For crying out loud, NATO has largely abandoned the sport since the fall of the Soviet Union. The only ones who have kept the sport alive is Japan! We don't have Tankery teams anymore!"

"Then put one together John! I want this match to happen, got it, or do I need to find another SecDef?" demanded the President.

SecDef froze for a moment. He clenched his eyes shut. As much as he wanted to quit this job, he was pretty sure he was one of the few sane voices left since almost everyone else had abandoned the sinking S.S White House ship. As much as organizing a sporting match wasn't in his job description, if it was a match between the former Warsaw Pact and NATO, it just might become part of it. He couldn't afford to get sacked. He had to stand as the last vestige of true American libertarian ideals in this damned clown fiesta. "Yes Sir." replied SecDef, begrudgingly.

With a mixture of determination and apathy, SecDef pivoted on his heels and marched out of the Oval Office, shutting the doors behind him and just... standing there, pinching his nose bridge. Resume Tankery, that in of itself was no small feat. Ok... first, an attack plan. He wasn't sure of the details of the match, but he had until the end of the year to sort through this mess; it was May. So, technically he had seven months... but he wasn't dumb, in reality he had less than four, maybe five tops. Since the Russians would be hosting, if winter came, they would have the advantage, no questions asked. Ok, he had to reel it back in. First let the EdMin know of the development. But was he to set up a boy's team, girl's team or co-ed team? Damnit! He didn't know what the Russian team was! Perhaps it didn't matter. Then he snapped his finger, he had his attack plan.

Start up a girl's team, but allow boys to join as maintenance and support crew and be trained on the side in case he needed to swap the roster up. Traditionally Tankery was a girl's sport, which he admittedly thought was avangard... but this way if Russia fielded a boy's team or co-ed team, he'd have the needed players. But there was no way America could get a brand new Tankery team up and running in less than a year without the infrastructure to do it; they had no teachers of the sport any longer. So, he'd put a call out to NATO, any School Districts willing were to resume Tankery, hopefully, and were to standby. That would handle the numbers. And if he needed too, he might be able to convince the Japanese to send some trainers, maybe a team or two could even come by and show NATO the ropes again. But who would lead them?

Tankery had been dropped in '89, like he had said, most of the last batch of Tankery players had long since dropped their shells, but perhaps he could find some willing to teach the new generation of players. Which meant he had to start with the last of the Cold War era players. He needed the Pool family.

* * *

**Two Weeks Later: May 17th, 2019 - Washington State, Bellingham**

Jessica Pool - 11th Grader, seventeen years old, going to be eighteen in about two weeks, June 6th - was walking home from school. She'd pulled a poster down from the cork-board in her school's foyer and was reading it over. She'd lower her arm, holding the poster at her side, looking back up as she brushed some of her long chocolate brown hair out of her hazel eyes. "So, they're bringing Tankery back to the west." She mused, contemplating whether or not she'd try out as she rolled the poster up and shoved it under one of the loops on her backpack. Her mother was sure to be divided at best. Her father even more so, she was sure of it. Tankery isn't a woman's sport or something like that... that had been the general consensus in the West anyways, yet stubbornly it remained until it no longer had a point at the end of the Cold War.

Jess chuckled and shouldered her pack, picking up the pace. Her mother had always talked about it with reserved, almost nostalgic vigor. It was impressive, hearing the tales that she had about her matches when she was a girl. Ever since she was old enough recognize the difference between a car and a tank, Jess had too held a fascination with the hulking metal behemoths, but in her time, they were regarded as weapons of war, nothing else. With Tankery coming back, that might no longer be the case in the west and her prior hesitation turned to excited glee. Oooh! She might get to sit inside a tank! How cool would that be! Her mother would be so proud! She had to be!

"Absolutely not." stated her mother later that afternoon, leaving Jess standing there befuddled, holding out the poster with a shocked expression plastered on her face, unmoving. Then finally, she snapped herself out of it.

"Wait, why?!" she exclaimed, causing her mother to flinch.

"Don't bark back at me like that young lady. I said no. Tankery might be all fun and games in the East, but they forget just how dangerous it really can be!" her mother replied as she left the kitchen, with Jess sliding after her across the smooth linoleum floor before sliding up onto the carpet and following her mother into the small backyard behind their house, cordoned off with bland, basic and slightly aged wooden planks.

"So? You did it. And you turned turned out just fine, you even said you enjoyed it." said Jess, not so much trying to talk back, but just wanting to get to the bottom of why her mother seemed to have just done a one-eighty on her stance on Tankery.

Her mother stopped just outside, pausing at those words, there was a tense silence. For a moment Jess wondered if she'd pushed too far. "You're right, I did enjoy it." she finally replied, picking up a pack of cigarettes up from one of the glass tables that stood outside on the small patch of concrete that made up the pathetic excuse for a patio that the yard had, drawing a lighter and lighting one up for herself. Jess took a step back to put distance between herself and her mother, her mother was trying to shoo her off, she knew it, Jess hated the smell of cigarettes, they gave her splitting headaches and made her nose burn.

"Then why did you stop?" Jess continued to prod, full well knowing she was re entering dangerous waters. Every time the subject reached this point in the past - anything about Tankery really - her mother promptly shut the conversation down. But to her surprise, not this time.

Her mother took a puff from her smoke, "A combination of things really. The end of the Cold War, the sport fell out of favor. Popular western opinion since the thirties had always been against Tankery as a woman's sport. And of course, the Area-212 incident."

Jess furrowed her brow, some of those made sense, others however… "I mean, I guess I can understand that the thawing relations between the Warsaw Pact and NATO would decrease interest in military-like activities, but for god's sake mom it's the twenty first century, if a woman wants to drive a tank for sport, she's every right too." she said, not even batting an eyelash at such a statement. That last part however… "As for Area-212, wasn't that one of the old Tankery arenas? Wasn't the last of NATO's Tankery matches held there?" but that was about all she knew. Information on the location was limited at best.

"Yes… yes it was. It was also the location of _my _final match." her mother stated and Jess tensed up, the strain in her mother's voice was palpable. She was very much forcing herself to talk about it, all in the name of convincing her not to join Tankery. "The Area-212 incident… they don't talk about it much anymore… but it's one of the reasons they banned open top tanks."

"Mother… you… you don't have to-" Jess started, but was silenced with a wave of her mother's hand, who still had her back to her, smoking her cigarette.

"If it means talking you out of this hazardous activity, then I have no choice." her mother started, taking a swift breath in through her nose, then coughing abruptly as she inhaled a whiff of second hand smoke. Though once she caught her breath, she put the cigarette out at last. Forget Tankery, that stuff was going to kill her before the sport did.

"June the 12th, 1989. It was to be the last Tankery match before the summer break for the younger girls, and it was to be my graduation year, along with my entire crew's, since we were all 12th graders. It was the finals of NATO's Tankery Championships, the Warsaw Pact wasn't involved. It was our 117th Eisenhower High Tank Brigade against Germany's 89th Rommel High Panzers. Annihilation match. We knew they were going to go heavy with Panthers, so we brought up our M10 Wolverine Tank Destroyers. These were open top variants. At the time, open top was thought to be a safe design, since it would allow for the crew to bail quickly. I was the gunner, my friend Delilah was our loader, Nikky was our driver and Veronica our commander. The match was going well, we were winning, eight of their twelve tanks had been knocked out and they only had one Panther, a King Tiger, a Jagdtiger and a Puma - the 234 - left. The Puma had been eluding us for some time, leading us on a chase… it wasn't easy keeping up with an armored car in a tank, there were times where we had to stop and examine tracks. We were pretty sure it was leading us into an ambush but we just weren't sure when we'd be hit, so we ended up having our Pershing take point. Once we had been led on enough though, the trap was sprung, we lost our Pershing and three of our M10s before we knew what hit us. Dammit we were so headstrong back then, all we could think of was winning, even though we knew how dangerous it was to load the open top guns while under fire. I don't remember what happened after we got hit though. I think we got hit by an HE round from the Jagdtiger, it knocked our tank out and I woke up next to our M10 which spouted fire from the rear. I saw Nikky climb out of the hull, singed but okay… but I couldn't find Veronica or Delilah. I stumbled to my feet, my legs were killing me, they felt like they were on fire, I looked down to discover that several pieces of shrapnel had torn through my legs. It wasn't so bad that they would have had to stop the match, about four incisions, only one of which ended up needing stitches. But I had to find Veronica and Delilah, I looked around the tank while the fight between our remaining M10s and the Germans raged on, I don't know who was winning at this point, I didn't care anymore. I then climbed up onto the hull of the tank while Nikky nursed her burns, again, nothing serious, she'd been safe inside the tank. But… Veronica and Delilah… I saw the two of them crumpled up in the turret of the tank, both still moving, but…"

Jess put a hand to her mouth as her mother's eyes started to well up.

"I screamed to Nikky to get the flags out, I remember crying for her to get the yellow flag with the red cross on it and run out into the middle of the field as fast as she could. She didn't ask any questions and ran screaming out into the field, waving the flag and bellowing for them to stop the match…" Jess's mother paused for a moment, taking some time to breath. "Shrapnel from one of the 122mm HE shells had somehow found its way into the open turret of the M10, they said it was as a result of our engine getting blown up, it's why I'd been thrown from the turret. Said I was lucky to have my legs still attached to my body. They flew out a medevac to lift them to the nearest hospital. Both with serious, life threatening shrapnel and concussive injuries." finally, Jess's mother turned around, tear streaming from her eyes. "Delilah didn't make it, she died two days later. And- and Veronica never fully recovered, she wouldn't walk again."

Jess was speechless, someone… died during Tankery? She'd never heard such a story. "I'm… I'm sorry mother." Jess finally said after much silence. She dipped her head. No wonder she had been so reluctant to speak of her final Tankery days. As far as Jess was aware, if what her mother said was true - and she'd no doubt about it - then that would have been the only case of a fatality in Tankery. Sure there'd been injuries, but none that were life altering to the best of her knowledge. But on the other hand, while she didn't want to downplay her mother's losses, she knew that there'd been significant advances in Tankery safety regulations.

All tanks were to be equipped with some layer of internal _Chobham _armor, complete with depleted uranium and _NERA _\- Non-Explosive-Reactive-Armor - panels to protect the crew. Most of the weapons used in Tankery couldn't penetrate modern tank armor at range. Besides, most modern _live _rounds used in Tankery had elaborate sensors in them which would cause them to disintegrate after penetrating a certain distance, or if they detected a person in front of them. Said person would still have the daylights knocked out of them by the rubber wad, but it was better than getting their head taken off.

Regardless, Jess understood her mother's concerns, it hadn't changed her mind, but it had given her something to think about. Then there was a ring at the door. Jess pinched her nose as her smoke smelling mother passed her through the sliding door and made her way to the front, slowly, Jess again followed, shutting the yard door behind her.

There was muffled conversation coming from the front of the house. Jess stood in the living room, at the end of the hallway that lead towards the stairs to the second floor of the house, peeking around a corner that seperated the living room from the more _formal _dining room. _Formal _was a stretch, more like _less used_ and _containing slightly more china than the rest of the house room_. It was that one awkward overly pristine room in an otherwise unnoteworthy house. The voices could be heard faintly.

"Are you sure about this Mrs. Pool? You were the best your country had, you would be teaching a new generation." said a suited man, standing at the door.

"I'm sure, I gave it up after '89, as did any other sensible girl who witnessed that tragedy." Jess's mother replied.

"Well, yes… it's just, well, it's complicated, but we're in dire need of teachers. I can assure you, you will be paid handsomely for your time spent." added the man, only for her mother to shake her head.

"I'm not interested in blood money. That's what that sport pays out."

The man looked dismayed at her mother's response. Her mother was blowing this way out of proportion. Someone was injured, another dead from a sport. Truly it was a tragedy, but the same can be said of anyone injured or killed doing something they love. For god's sake, Jess had seen some pretty gruesome injuries from things like wrestling, football and hockey, hell, people have been killed in those sports as well. True those sports weren't playing dodgeball with 122mm shells and multi-tonne armored fighting vehicles, but the casualty rate was about the same as _actual_ dodgeball!

"Mother! Please! If you won't, then let me at least join!" Jess exclaimed from down the hall. The conversation at the door halted and her mother slowly turned to look at her. But before her mother could berate her, she moved to make her point. "I get it, Tankery is dangerous, you're scarred by what happened. But look at you, look at me, look at grandpa! Tanking is in our blood. I don't claim to fully understand, or even know what it felt like to lose a friend in what is supposed to be nothing more than a _game. _I just know what I want to do with my life. That means jumping in a tank… reinvigorating this sport that you once so loved. I promise I'll be careful. Please, just let me do this!" she begged.

"I see your daughter has much of the spirit you once possessed, Mrs. Pool." remarked the suited man, almost nostalgically.

Her mother dipped her head and released a long winded sigh. "Yeah… she does. Alright Jess. But if you get hurt…" she trailed off and for a moment Jess expected her to say something like _then I'll kill you myself_, but no, nothing of the sort. Her mother's expression softened; "...just don't get hurt."

The man at the door cleared his throat. "Well then, if that's settled." he paused, waiting for the two ladies to direct their attention towards him. With a nod of Jess's mother, the man continued. "Miss Pool, if you should join the Tankery team, you will be exempt from all further land based schooling this year and report to the old dry docks in Seattle." he then held out a small slip of paper for Jess's mother, who took it and gave it a once over. Her eyes widened.

"You don't mean to-" she started getting emotional again.

The man smiled, "She was mothballed in '91, it'll be good to get her back out to sea, won't it?" Jess's mother clasped a hand over her mouth and nodded rapidly.

"I may reconsider my previous decision." her mother stated, holding back her emotions, just standing in the doorway, half trembling.

"Best make your decision soon Mrs. Pool. The Eisenhower will be ready to sail by month's end."

Jess raised a brow, thinking for a moment. A ship named The Eisenhower, where'd she'd heard that before? Then it clicked. Her mother had _just _mentioned it. The last great school ship of the United States of America! Shut down in '91… and now, back in service. She wasn't sure why the state would go through all this trouble, bringing back Tankery, reactivating The Eisenhower, but for whatever reason, she was pumped to see who they'd face first!

* * *

**Three Days Later: May 20th, 2019 - Somewhere in Siberia**

From the top of the radio tower in their high tech training compound, Natalia Badanov, age nineteen, watched a pair of next generation T-14s race around a circuit in the middle of the compound. This base, played home to over three-hundred and twenty Russian girls, eighty boys and three dozen assorted instructors. It was it's own fortress school in the Siberian forests.

Even with the sun going down and the chill of Siberian night setting in, she couldn't help but smile. They'd just gotten a pair of the newest cutting edge Russian tanks to play with. If it wasn't thirty below (Celsius of course) she'd be drooling with anticipation to take it for a spin herself. She was glad the T-14s arrived when they did, she needed something to take her mind off the knee jerk reaction that had rocketed through the Russian media recently; America and NATO readopting Tankery. It was the surprise of the decade for sure! She wasn't sure where it came from, or what spurred it but she didn't care. A slurry of emotions pulsed through her. Her ice cold professional demeanor betrayed her anxiety riddled mind - at the moment at least. On one hand she was excited to finally have an international opponent since Japan hardly participated in international championships… and to stick it to America… it was of all things, refreshing and equally stressful. The weight of the great Russian bear weighed upon her shoulders. She and her team would represent _Russia _against America, not since the eighties had they squared off like this. The pressure was _very, very _real.

"_Winner takes bragging rights of the decade,_" she thought, comparing the coming event to the space race. It would be sputnik all over again! At least that's how she played it in her mind. She leaned onto the railing for a moment, watching the squads of Russian girls marching in formation below. The enlistees and non-coms running drills, all of them marching with extended Mosin-Nagant rifles or SVT-40s like it was a Victory Day parade. Yeah, Russia may have taken Tankery a little more seriously than even Japan.

If Baseball was America's pastime, Hockey was Canada's and Football was the rest of the world's then Tankery was Russia's. True it had been slowing down since the 90s, but it was still widely popular and Natalia was proud to be captain of the honorary 151st Girl's Red Guard Tank Division. One of the few things that hadn't been purged during the fall of the Soviet Union.

She pulled the flaps of her ushanka down around her ears and tied the strap under her chin as the winds picked up. The view from the radio tower was amazing, but it was old and treacherous, creaking when the winds picked up. She figured it was probably best to head down… she made her way towards the ladder, and froze before setting hands on the first rung as the speaker which was immediately above her screamed to life, drowning out the reactionary "BLYAT!" explisitive that escaped her lips as she clamped her hands over her ears.

"Comrade Badanov, your presence is required in the command centre."

Natalia furrowed her brow, in hindsight she should have anticipated this - ear rape included. After such a shipment of tanks, she was due for orders any moment. So, without hesitation, she steeled herself and grasped the ladder, sliding down it, reaching the bottom of the ladder in seconds. Then it was off to the command centre, only right next to the radio tower, in a brisk, but orderly pace, trudging through the snow. She then ascended the metal frame steps to the command centers' overlooking control tower, easily only half the height of the radio tower. She brushed the loose snow off her shoulders before marching into the room and snapping a salute to their instructor.

"Colonel Badanov, at ease." said the old Russian man who stood with his arms clasped behind his back. "I'm sure you're aware of our upcoming match with the West. We will be fighting them in our home territory, so I want you to study the map layouts in great detail. Do you understand Commander? I want you memorizing the field. Need I reinforce the stakes of this match?"

Still standing at attention, Natalia shook her head. "No sir. I understand completely. I will do mother Russia proud. But I must know sir, what match will we be playing? Annihilation? Flag? Domination?" she asked, starting to list off less traditional match types; "Headquarters? CTF?"

"We will have four matches, three of which are worth a single point, the last one being worth two." the instructor explained. "The match list will be as follows: Annihilation-90, Headquarters-45, Domination-90 and then the final match will be a War Game-45."

Upon hearing that, Natalia tensed up. "War Game? Sir." she'd only gotten to take part in a single War Game before, it was a match type nearly exclusive to the Cold War when there were still plenty of adversaries to go up against. These days a War Game was nearly impossible to set up, at least a full scale one. The one she was in had been essentially neutered what with only half of the optimal players.

"Yes, War Game. You're familiar with the rules of play for it, no?" asked the instructor.

Natalia nodded, she was. It was unlike any game mode that the Japanese would have played, established after Russian observers saw Tankery in action after the Second World War.

"_Why are they allowed out of their tanks for recon if they cannot be shot at?" _it was said one of the observers asked, resulting in the War Game format being thought of. A style of Tankery in which the rules of engagement were overhauled and the weapons were altered drastically. Live ammo was still used against enemy armor, but all machine guns were (at the time) loaded with rubber ammunition - though modern machine guns used _special _paintballs now - and small arms and combined warfare tactics were adopted. As such, War Games allowed infantry to accompany the Tanks using both anti-infantry weapons as well as anti-tank weapons; bazookas, anti-tank grenades, mines, satchel charges, anti-tank rifles and even emplaced anti-tank guns. A War Game match was set up in similar fashion to a Domination game, where teams had to take various positions, however in this style, the positions were not so much _Victory Points_ but _Resource Points_ which would give advantages to whichever team controlled them, allowing whoever controlled said points an easier time destroying the enemy team's command center. Victory was achieved by either destroying the enemy command center or through the _attrition _mechanic, which prevented teams from fielding any more players.

"Good." replied the instructor. "Get your sub-commanders together then, Colonel. You've work to do." as he slipped on his own ushanka and started to head for the door.

"Da!" Natalia barked back, snapping a salute and holding it until he left, the door clicking shut behind him. With that, she eased up and slipped her now damp ushanka off her head and shook it out, letting her bright brown hair down, just above her shoulders. She set her hat down on the table in the center of the command center tower, peering down at the maps left behind by the instructor for her to study. _"Interesting" _she thought; each map was labeled with the match type it was associated with.

The Annihilation match was to take place on the Iron Curtain course; a heavily urban based course that took place in a mock Berlin, complete with Berlin Wall. There would be heavy close quarters fighting. Since it was a _ninety_ style match, she could bring forth such tanks as the T-55, T-64, T-72 and T-80U. No T-90s however, since they entered service in '93 and fell outside the regulations. Also, much to her disappointment, no T-14s… she groaned, with those they'd cream the Americans without question. She was aware of the T-72's flaws, their guns couldn't angle very high or low due to the tank's profile, but in an urban setting, that shouldn't be a problem.

The second match was a Headquarters match, taking place in the Seelow course; this course was wide and open, with large fields and long range sights to work with. Tree cover was going to be sparse and environmental cover would come in the form of the occasional cliff or odd structure and plenty of bunkers. The few tank bunkers it had were in highly defensible positions, which played to the match's style; Headquarters. Headquarters was essentially King of the Hill with tanks. One team was selected to defend, the other to attack. The attacking team was allowed twice as many tanks at the defender, but the defender got to take the field early to set up defenses which came in the form of mines and tank traps, while also getting to claim the better positions. Natalia hoped they got to be the attacker, even if that would be just a bit unfair; knowing all the positions as she would.

Third was the Domination match, another ninety match, set in the Musha course; which broke tradition with the other maps being based in Europe and was set in the middle-east. This was a bit of a sore spot for Natalia, she wasn't looking forward to duking it out in the desert; the course held vast open swaths of desert, narrow canyon corridors and various cave systems. Since it was a Domination match, that meant the teams would have to split up into three groups, two at least, and take and hold two of the three victory points on the map. One was situated in the village in the middle of the map, another at an oasis at east of the map and the last in a maze of canyons to the west. This would definitely be a varied match, but it was also a Cold War era match. She knew for a fact that the Americans would bring the M1 Abrams to bear and her T-72s would be at a severe disadvantage if they couldn't level the playing field with cover… she couldn't help but feel that this match was set up by officials to try and prove a point. To settle an old score if you will.

The final match, the War Game, was set in her home territory. Back in Russia, and hopefully back in the snow. The course was vast, the largest of the four courses with two full sized towns at either end of the course and a few smaller villages scattered between them. The terrain varied from east to west of the map, featuring mountains, hills, valleys, rolling plains and expansive tundran forests. Natalia stared at the map that dwarfed the other three, physically shaking in her boots with anticipation. The other three matches didn't elicit this kind of emotion from her. Since it was first to three and the final match was worth four, it might not happen if she won the first three rounds, since there'd be no point. She contemplated throwing one of the matches just to be able to fight on this course. Maybe the Domination match? The officials could suck it, Afghanistan was a mess and they knew it. Russia's Vietnam. Eh… she'd see.

She'd study the maps in greater detail later, for now, she needed to round up her lieutenants.

Natalia patted her chest down, hands still covered in thick grip mittens, searching for her personal radio, finding the mic for it nestled in her right chest pocket. Pressing the button on the side, she lifted it up to her mouth; "Nisha, Mishka, I require your presence in the command tower." she lowered the receiver and awaited the reply, releasing the button.

The electronic beep on her radio signaled an incoming response; "Da Komandir_, _I will be there shortly." replied Nisha, the sound of sporadic gunfire could be heard during her transmission, they must have been at the firing range.

Natalia then waited a while longer, waiting for her third's reply… nothing. "Nisha, have you seen Mishka?" she asked.

"I believe she and her team are taking one of the T-14s for a ride." replied Nisha.

Natalia groaned and peered outside the tower; one of the T-14s had retired for the night, she could see it pulling into one of the motor pools as it shut it's headlight off. The other one however was still lit up, taking laps around the now dark track. "I have a feeling I know why she's not responding… meet in the command tower in ten."

"Da Komandir." replied Nisha, ending transition.

And with that, Natalia drew her officer's Nagant revolver and loaded a single live round into it and marched outside, stepping out onto the metal frame stairs and staring down the T-14 now doing donuts on the track. She narrowed her eyes and took aim at the tank with her pistol and fired a bullet at the tank, her revolver barking a sharp and loud report as she fired. The bullet impacted the side of the tank with a ringing ping and the tank stopped doing loops, skidding to a halt.

In the distance, Natalia could see the lights on a few barracks turn on and a couple of the tanker girls peek outside, but she didn't care if she interrupted their beauty sleep. Slowly the hatch of the T-14 opened up and Mishka peeked her long silver haired head out of the tank. Natalia could hear a techno version of the Soviet anthem emitting from the tank, she glowered and shakily sighed, barely containing her annoyance. Mishka however was oblivious to the onlooking commander at first, scanning the area before finally landing her gaze on the commander atop the tower with her smoking Nagant in one hand, receiver in the other.. In an almost comical fashion, the volume of the music emitting from the tank slowly quieted until shutting off completely.

Natalia again razed her radio and tuned out of Nisha's channel, only synced to Mishka's. She inhaled sharply and then bellowed into the receiver; "SYKA BLYAT! I SAID TO THE COMMAND TOWER!"

She could see Mishka nearly jump out of the tank as Natalia's voice echoed through the base and shrieked out of the tank's radio. She feverishly groped for her own radio's reciever. "D-da Komandir!" she yelped back before climbing out of the tank in a hurry, nearly faceplanting into the oily snow below the T-14.

Natalia holstered her Nagant and shook her head in disbelief. How Mishka rose to Major was beyond her. She furrowed her brow, she'd better get her act together or she was clearing the track; by hand. With that pleasant thought in mind, Natalia returned inside the command tower to await her officers, perhaps she'd ask Nisha to grab some cherry piroshkis from the mess hall on her way up. But none for Mishka. No pastries for second rate officers.

* * *

**Earlier that same day…**

"WOO!" Kay exclaimed, charging into the Student Council chambers causing Alisa and Naomi to jump as she crashed through the door. The way Alisa jumped, tossing her bag of pretzels to the wind and scattering them across the dead, no doubt she was nearly given a heart attack.

Naomi was the first to recover from the brief shock, hand clasped over her chest, leaning against the desk that Alisa sat at, feet having been just kicked up onto the top. Naomi extended her hand, a remote in hand, turning the stereo off and shutting Dean Martin up for the time being. Alisa was too busy picking up pretzels atop the desk to ask questions... so Naomi filled that role.

"What's got you in such a mood?" she asked, pushing off the desk, shifting her hand to her hip.

"This!" Kay chirped, vaulting over the sofa between her and the desk, slapping a sheet of paper onto the desk, further startling Alisa.

"Will you quit it!" she barked, more pretzels being strewn about, many flying off the desk.

Naomi bent over slightly, her eyes shifting down to the notice Kay had produced. Most of it was written in English, so it took her a moment to mentally make the switch from Japanese. Once she'd finally translated the message, her eyes widened. "Holy crap!" she exclaimed, probably the first time Kay had seen her get excited over something.

"Yeah! We're going to America!" Kay shrilly cheered.

"What?" Alisa asked from below the desk, causing Kay to raise a brow... then she stuck her head up, dropping a handful of floor pretzels on the desk. She shot Kay an unimpressed look, clearly not pleased with her wasting of perfectly good snacks. "I mean... that's awesome and all, but... why?" Alisa asked, "I'd sound more excited but I'm just a little peeved right now... so... yeah."

"Oh!" Kay hopped slightly, clasping her hands for a moment, clearing her throat, then jabbing a finger at Alisa. "You." then jabbing a thumb at Naomi, "Naomi." then to herself. "And yours-truely." she stated, "Are going to America, to provide experienced teachers in the sport of Sensho-do."

"Woah... that's pretty cool!" Alisa muttered, standing up fully. "Wait, is it just the three of us?"

Kay faltered slightly... "Uhhh... Y-yeah..."

"And how many are we supposed to train?" Alisa continued.

"Err... w-well, they didn't provide a hard number, but said... they were bringing in several dozens... of... players. O-over a hundred." Kay stammered. She'd been so excited at the prospect of going to America that the task ahead of them, hadn't really sunk in completely.

"Kay! That's ridiculous!" Alisa exclaimed "We can't teach over a hundred players at once!"

Kay thought for a moment... if only she had more seasoned commanders she could call in... wait... Kay snapped her fingers. "I got it! Why don't we ask around the Japanese schools, see if any of them would be willing to contribute."

"But not all of them have quite as high of a... English standard as us." Naomi muttered, raising her hand slightly, fingers fulled as she stared down at them, picking at her nails. "The only other school that has English as a high priority is St. Gloriana's."

"Well... we can ask them, sure... but I was also thinking of asking Miho and the girls at Ooarai. They did win the last championship. Having them along would, I think, really give us an edge in showing these Western girls how its done." Kay said, seeing American was going to be awesome, even if it was for only a bit, as according to the message they'd gotten, they would be boarding an American school ship not long after arriving, but still, it was kind of America. An American ship, with American culture and American... well, _everything_. But even so, teaching these Western girls Sensho-do, after all this time they'd been without. Kay realized, slowly, just how daunting a task this was going to be.

Alisa nodded. "Alright, well... we can translate if needed. Especially if we're going to bring St. Gloriana along, that will help us communicate."

Kay extended an arm, giving Alisa a thumbs up and a wink. "There we go! And while we're at it, we can see how the West used to do _Tankery. _I heard they used a different rule set than us. Gotta admit, I'm a bit curious."

"What, like different tanks and stuff?" Alisa asked.

Kay chuckled, nodding. "Yep, their styles are split in two; with World War Two era matches and then Cold War era matches, using more modern tanks. Also they've got this _War Game _rule... I've only heard about it, but apparently it turns Sensho-do into an entirely new sport."

"Yeah, I've heard about it as well... only the Russians have really continued Sensho-do to Western standards..." commented Naomi. "And they're pretty hardcore."

"Well, as long as we're not going up against the Russians any time soon, we should be fine." Kay replied, reaching down to pick the paper back up, looking down at it. This was exciting. Getting to go abroad, see new places... she'd never thought she'd be going over seas by now, but it was a pleasant surprise. "Well, lets pack up our things and send out the calls, America awaits!"


	2. The USS Eisenhower

_**Needs to include languages other than english, but doesn't speak any of them.**_

_**Google Translate: I'm about to end this man's whole career…**_

_**And one of those languages is Japanese**_

_**Google Translate: Omae wa, mou shindeiru...**_

* * *

Jess shouldered her pack as she got out of the car, walking around back to get her suitcase from the trunk. She'd seen it from the top of the hill, but didn't expect it to be so big up close. She turned around and looked up at the looming titan. The USS Eisenhower. The last of America's great school ships. The hull had some rust on it, but overall it looked in… _ship _shape. A chorus of claps echoing out from the hundreds of facepalms she just caused rang out in her mind. _"It's okay, I hate myself too sometimes." _she thought, chuckling as she stared up at the gargantuan aircraft carrier. It was by far, larger than any ship she'd ever seen. Already they were loading supplies and personnel onto the ship, it looked to be ready to set out at any moment. Then movement caught her attention, she looked down from the carrier towards the road that lead up towards the loading ramp into the carrier. Someone in blues was running towards them, it wasn't a cop, but once the man got closer, Jess recognized the uniform as that of the US Coast Guard.

The man slowed down about two dozen feet out and called out; "The Pools?" he asked, cupping a hand next to his mouth.

"That would be us, yes." replied her mother out the window.

"Alright, you've been expected, no need to leave your vehicle behind, just follow the road around, we'll clear you and you may board with your car." said the coast guard.

Jess's mother simply replied by extending her arm out the window and giving the man a thumbs up. Jess's father simply sat silently in the passenger's seat. He still wasn't entirely over the fact that both his wife and daughter had been swayed into this tankery nonsense again. Jess sighed slightly, at least she didn't have to walk on, but that only meant who knew how long she'd be waiting in the car while the line into the ship slowly inched forward… at least the coast guard could have relayed this information _before _she had gotten out and removed her suitcase. Oh well.

That had been the day after accepting the tankery commission from the re-established ATL - American Tankery League. By now, it had been a week since they arrived…

* * *

**May 25th, 2019 - Washington State, Seattle, The USS School Ship Eisenhower**

By now, Jess was second guessing whether or not this tankery shit was worth it.

"_I don't know but I've been told!" _sang her instructor.

"I don't know but I've been told!" sang back Jess and the present tankery players who ran - in formation - after her.

"_Oh, marines are mighty bold!"_

"Oh, marines are mighty bold!" all sixteen of the present girls were dressed in drab shirts with the white letters ATL printed on the front and back of them, with khaki shorts. All were drenched in sweat from this damnable summer run. It had only been a day after arriving that she and the tankery players that had shown up so far were thrust into drills as if they had _actually _joined the army. It… wasn't what she was expecting. This on top of _still _having normal education continue - as stated - through the summer.

The jogging group passed through the chain fence gate the lead back into the school grounds, it had only been three laps around the perimeter of the carrier - the four by one mile long carrier (about six and a half by one and a half kilometers). They'd literally just run a marathon.

The _school _was a the spitting image of what would happen if you combined a typical north american public high school with boot camp. A large main building where most academic classes took place in the middle, surrounded by military style single story houses that made up the mess hall, showers and various barracks where students slept as part of their _training_. The motor pool, firing range and practice course were placed beyond all those structures towards a faux forest of thin trees at the edge of the school grounds - the grounds of which, were almost entirely dirt.

Most of the girls simply fell flat on the dirt field from exhaustion. Other girls that had signed up for tankery followed their instructors around the grounds, either headed to other classes or headed out on their own drills… there were a few squads of boys as well, but of the two Jess saw, one was headed out of the grounds for a break and the other was headed towards the motor pool for engineering training. What she would give to have a day of nothing but mechanics.

"Alright ladies! Drop and give me twenty!"

A chorus of groans, whines and sobs emitted from the girls.

"Thirty!"

There were less groans, whines and sobs this time and most of the girls formed up, got on their hands and knees and _tried _for lack of a better word to comply with orders. Most of them couldn't even finish three, let alone thirty at this point. Jess herself only managed ten before collapsing.

"_This is nice dirt…" _she thought while laying motionless on her stomach. She turned her head to the side and just as expected, all the other girls at this point were down for the count… then she looked to the other side just as she registered her mother's voice.

"You know they're not _actually _marines, right?" she said to their instructor, but Jess couldn't bring herself to look towards them, she was too captivated by what she was beholding right now.

"Then how do you explain that?" said the instructor. Jess knew just who those words were meant for as a short haired blonde girl rose up after doing the thirty push-ups, the only girl to do so. She snapped a salute.

"Thank you ma'am may I have another!" she barked with what sounded like actual enthusiasm. Her voice held a thick southern accent.

"Give me another twenty." said the instructor.

"Yes sir!" the blonde replied, dropping down and actually doing the additional twenty and rising back up and standing at attention.

"I think we've found a captain among cadets." mused the instructor. "Well, that might be over selling it. Private Reed, your performance over the past week has been exemplary. I'm putting you in for Corporal, you deserve it."

"Thank you ma'am!" she replied, saluting. Some of the other girls had the energy to gasp at this commendation. Of the platoon of sixteen cadets, only four of them had made it to private; Mary Reed, Kate Mclane, Becky O'ryan and Jess herself. Reed was the first to make it to Corporal.

"_Ugh" _Jess slumped back to the ground. _"Bullshit. We've not even gotten to start learning how to operate the tanks yet. What is this some kind of proving?" _she thought, finally getting the stamina for force herself up a bit, struggling to her feet while breathing heavily. Her arms felt like jello and her legs felt like they were on fire.

"Well, I think this is enough for one day. Dismissed!" barked their instructor, ending with a sigh and removing her broad brimmed hat and departing, leaving the girls of 1st Platoon to pick up and dust off on their own.

Jess forced herself to look at her mother, who donned the same uniform as the instructor who just left. Her mother returned a slight apologetic look, but if this _was _anything like the army, or like boot camp, she knew nepotism was against policy. Not that she wanted it anyways. Though exhausted and at the moment, second guessing tankery, she was devoted as a whole. After going through all that work to convince her mother to allow her to join tankery and hearing her story, she wasn't about to disappoint and drop out.

So, even if she was her mother and much of the school knew it, she wasn't going to throw apparent protocol out the window just to seem like she was special. She snapped a salute; "Sir. Is there any idea when we'll be leaving port? Sir."

"At ease Private Pool." replied her mother. "The deadline for those who signed up to be here is six o'clock this evening. So while I can't say when exactly we're leaving, I'd guess not long after the deadline."

Jess relaxed and lowered her arm, nodding. With class being dismissed, she headed for the showers to wash and change, emerging later donning the Eisenhower school uniform - which again, wasn't what Jess expected, but considering the school's conduct, made perfect sense. Donning a blue digital patterned ACU with the letters ATL printed across the shoulders and left side of her chest in black; a single chevron denoting her as a private was sewn just under all instances of ATL except her chest. Her name instead printed in smaller letters under the ATL on her chest. She folded her field cap up and tucked it away. After classes, after running a marathon, after her questions, there was now only one thing on her mind. Food.

As she left she heard someone call out to her. "Private Pool!" she heard, turning around to see a shorter ginger girl with full freckles and green eyes charging her with a hand in the air, waving her down. She was kicking up a lot of dirt as she ran towards her.

"Oh, uh. Whitney." said Jess as the cadet reached her, panting. "You alright there Oliver?"

She wore the same uniform as Jess, the only difference being the lack of a chevron and a different name; Whitney Oliver.

Cadet Oliver stood upright and stretched out. "Yeah, I'm fine Private Pool."

"Please, just use my first name. Private Pool sounds… awkward." said Jess, grimacing a little at being referred to by rank.

"Oh… alright... Jessica." she then nervously looked aside. Then from out of the blue; "Can I join you for lunch?"

Jess raised a brow, she wouldn't object to company, but had no idea where this came from. "Sure… but, why?" she asked.

"Well, it's just… y'know, you're the legendary Jessica Pool, well maybe not specifically _Jessica Pool _but you know, you're a Pool. I want to learn from you! I want to know what it takes to be a great tankery player!" she exclaimed, just putting it all out on the floor.

Jess's face went a little red at the compliment and the sudden lavishing. "W-well…" she stammered out, "I don't know if I'll live up to the legend, I'm just starting tankery myself, believe it or not."

"Well… I'll believe it, given… y'know." she motioned idly to the side, she didn't need to state the obvious - but she did. "tankery's been kinda dead for twenty years."

"Right, got that." said Jess, giving a warm, albeit un-amused smile.

"Err, I mean, anyone with your reputation would make an upstanding tankery player, wouldn't they?" Whitney added.

"Ehh…" Jess simply shrugged, "Guess that remains to be seen. But I'm not looking to disappoint." she then looked over her shoulder, then back at Whitney, waving her to follow. "So, to MREatery?"

"Eugh, no, not that place again." groaned Whitney, Jess could hear the disgust in her tone.

"Well where else would we go? It's the only place onboard right now." replied Jess. The ship, at least the commercial sector wasn't running at full capacity yet and probably wouldn't for quite some time as it was deemed unessential by the navy. Agriculture, engineering, sailing and tankery personnel were at the forefront of the navy's hiring agenda right now.

"A new place opened up on the other side of the ship, below the command bridge." said Whitney.

Jess cocked her head, "Oh, is it better than MRE-"

"Yes." interrupted Whitney.

Jess shrugged, she didn't have any serious qualms with MREs, so long as you avoided very specific ones. But she was willing to try out a new place. "Sure, just show me where it is and… hmm… why not eat on the bow command tower? I'm curious to see if anyone else shows up before-" then a sound cut Jess off, her eye twitching upon recognizing this iteration of a particular song.

Jess tilted her head to look down the road, "No…" she whispered, making Whitney look at _her _with a worried look upon her face. "_Nnnnoooo…"_ she continued. "Dickens."

"Terrorists, your game is through, cuz now you have to answer to… America! Fuck yeah! So lick my cunt and suck on my tits! America! Fuck yeah!" boomed the boisterous blonde that approached with absolutely no shame. They were only a few blocks from the school and Jess stood frozen still, hoping that the girl wouldn't notice her - thankfully she was too engrossed in her gross _patriotism_ and passed right by. Jess simply stood there with a horrified and simultaneously disgusted look frozen on her face.

"Jessie… what… the fuck… was that?" said Whitney, who upon the creaking of Jess's neck to look at her, found she held a very similar visage.

Jess turned her head slowly back to look ahead of her. Just whispering; "Dick-ens…"

There was a brief moment of silence as Whitney asked; "Are… you okay?"

Another ten seconds of silence; "Let's just go get food…"

* * *

**Later that day…**

"Oh, you have no idea how much this improves my mood." commented Jess as she stood atop the bow command tower - a new addition to the Enterprise styled school carrier that wasn't present in the original design - while stuffing her face with another bite of hamburger. She leaned against the railing while looking down towards the residential sector of the ship. The view definitely wasn't as good as the taller central tower, but that was closed off right now, naval personnel only.

"Oh, I think I have an idea." replied Whitney, who sat with her back against the _hut _of the tower, inside of which was a single naval cadet and a naval Chief Petty Officer, who seemed to be showing the cadet the ropes. Whitney had deposited three burger wrappers next to her in her hat and was chowing down on her fourth, while Jess had only gotten one and was taking things a little slower. A mean thought entered Jess's mind and she mentally shook it off, she had a high metabolism, it was fine. Perhaps she was a real world Shaggy.

She turned about to lean on the railing with her back, finishing her burger off. "So, mind if I ask what caused you to sign up for tankery?"

Whitney cleaned off her fourth and crumpled the wrapper up. "Well, my brothers play basketball and football respectively, my older sister is an athletic swimmer and my younger sister dances. I was the only one who didn't have a _sporting_ activity, nothing really ever caught my interest. The only thing I really enjoyed at school was autoshop. Then I heard that they were bringing tankery back and I immediately jumped on that. Shocked the hell out of my family when I showed them the form."

"Heh, I hear that." Jess mused, getting an inquisitive look from the green eyed girl across from her. "I guess because I'm a Pool." she replied.

"That's a cheap answer." quipped Whitney.

"What can I say? Tanking has been in my family's blood for decades; My mother was captain of America's last tankery team and my grandfather was a tanker in the second world war." Jess replied with a slight grin, bending down to pick her drink up, casually taking a sip from it as she flicked her hat out from her pocket and set it atop her head.

"So now you're the next in a long line of tankers." concluded Whitney, resting her arms atop her knees. Her blue digital ACU jacket was unzipped, baring her dark pastel blue t-shirt underneath.

"Huh… I guess so." Jess mused, slowly pressing her lips to her straw and standing there in silence for a bit. It lasted a little too long.

"Man, we're just pros at creating awkward pauses aren't we?" remarked Whitney, which Jess couldn't help but snirk at, cracking a smile.

"Not two hours after meeting and we're already finding common interests aren't we?" replied Jess, her snirk turning into a light chuckle. Her reply causing Whitney to warmly laugh back, not too boisterous, not pitiful either, but perfectly appropriate for the situation.

Then Whitney strained her head to the side and up, "Huh, someone's coming up." she commented, Jess was about to ask how she knew but before she could Whitney simply stated while giving the deck a slight bump with the heel of her foot; "Vibrations."

Not long after saying that, Jess saw two girls come up the stairs inside the tower, their heads appearing at first, with Jess almost having a mini-heart attack. For a moment she thought the blonde was Audrey Dickens, the girl from the road, but then she realized her hair was too long and wavy. The other girl was about the same height as the blonde, but with shorter, light brown hair and brown eyes, as opposed the the blonde's blue eyes. They both wore different schoolgirl looking uniforms; with the brown haired girl wearing a white blouse and short green skirt while the blonde wore a white buttoned blouse, grey blazer jacket and short red skirt. The two girls exchanged a slightly drawn out greeting with the naval cadet and officer inside, longer than Jess thought necessary, before they emerged out onto the deck.

Upon setting foot on the deck, the brown haired girl looked with intrigue at Jess, then down at Whitney with the same expression while the blonde stood there with a hand on her hip. The brown haired one tensed up for a moment before giving a quick bow; "Kon'nitchiwa, watashi wa Nishizumi Miho." said the brown haired girl.

"Uh…" Jess started, "Hello Nishizumi- Miho… whichever you prefer…" she awkwardly replied.

"Woah, you know Japanese?" asked Whitney in surprise.

Jess then matter-of-factually raised a hand, extended her index finger and proudly proclaimed; "And that is the extent of my understanding of the Japanese language."

The blonde laughed and said something to this; Nishizumi, or Miho, Jess wasn't sure what to refer to her by, in Japanese before turning her attention back to Jess.

"That's kinda what I'm here for." said the blonde, who instead of bowing, extended her hand. "The name's Kay, I'm from Saunders U. High."

Jess extended her hand and shook Kay's. "Nice to meet you Kay. What brings the Japanese out here?" she asked out of nagging curiosity. She wasn't aware that they were pulling assets internationally.

"My school got asked to come overseas to help teach you girls tankery. It was a bit of a large task, so we asked some of the other schools in the JTF to send their top teams to help." Kay motioned to her right, "Not all of us who came over know English though, those from Saunders and St. Gloriana's are fluent in English, but the girls from Ooarai are less so." Kay then jabbed a thumb towards Miho and arranged the names properly, in a way that Jess understood. "This is Miho Nishizumi from Ooarai." and it finally clicked with Jess. The resulting outburst made Kay jump and made Whitney spill her drink.

"OHMIGOSH! You're _THE _Miho Nishizumi!" she fangirled and, perhaps, over-zealously grabbed Miho's hand and began shaking it with a consumed fervor.

Miho, who's eyes widened to the size of the moon upon this outburst exclaimed; "Watashi wa naze kore ga okotte iru no ka wakarimasen!"

Kay then interjected, relaying the general outburst of Jess to Miho.

"Miho Nishi-what-now?" asked Whitney, asked after sobbing over her spilt soft drink and standing up; her ACU now containing a slight dark spot around the knee.

"You might wanna calm down there _war chik_." remarked Kay, getting Jess to regain her composure as she tensed up and abruptly released her grip on Miho's hand, who also seemed to have calmed down. Miho's expression had changed from surprise and fear to a more bashful one, with her face having gone a little red after Kay explained what the outburst was about.

"Oh, right. Sorry." said Jess, giving a slight bow of her head in apology. "It's just I followed the 63rd Tankery Tournament like CNN and Fox follow politics. It was the only thing I concerned myself with while it was going on… pretty sure my grades dropped a little while I was watching it." she admitted, giving a slightly embarrassed grin and ending with a nervous chuckle. "And the wins that Miho and Ooarai pulled from matches that looked like certain defeat really inspired me." Jess's eyes may have gotten a little hazy, she envied Japan's continuation of tankery, while the west totally abandoned it. Now that it was back, not only did she get to take part in it's return, but the winners of Japan's 63rd Tourney were going to be riding shotgun with them. It was any tank girl's dream come true… or maybe just her's.

"Y'know fangirling in full ACU is unbecoming." commented Whitney from behind the two Japanese girls.

Jess then jumped a little at the comment, totally oblivious to the strange poses she had been making and the trembling of her arms in joy. "Err…" she snapped almost as if to stand at attention, lowering her arms to her side and instinctively saluted; "Private Jessica L. Pool. 1st Platoon, Eisenhower High and might I just say it will be an honor to learn from you Miss Nishizumi!"

Kay chuckled and translated, exchanging words with Miho who gave Jess a shy grin afterwards. Kay relayed the message; "The honor is mine Miss Pool, I never expected winning the tankery tournament would give me the chance to go abroad. To think, I'd have never gotten this opportunity if I stopped Sensho-do." said Kay, using the Japanese word for tankery.

Jess lowered her hand, nodding. "And your presence and support is also appreciated Kay."

Kay extended her arm and gave Jess a thumbs up. "Think nothing of it. It's also an opportunity for me to see America first-hand. Saunders Tankery Division- hell, our school, is entirely based on The U.S of A., so now I get to see if we're doing it right." she replied, with a brief pause before then clasping her hands and a slight sparkle entering her eye. "On an unrelated note where can I get one of those ACUs? I mean I like the school girl look and all, but that looks so much more practical for tank operations!" she exclaimed, seeming to fangirl over the modern american military-wear. "And just straight up badass!"

Jess gave Kay a nervous and well meaning smile, which was mirrored by Whitney from the rear. "I'll see if I can ask my mom if there's extras."

"Hah! Love you!" Kay cheered before almost jumping out of her shoes - as did the other girls - when the great school ship blew its horn.

"Ohmigosh! We're moving!" exclaimed Whitney who dashed over from her spot leaning against the tower hut, grasping the tower railing and watching the towers of Seattle start to move.

For the next five minutes or so, the girls stood at the edge of the tower, watching the ship begin to set sail. Was it already six o'clock? She whipped out her phone. Yep, on the dot… err, well it had been five minutes ago.

"You girls have a few hours left until dark, right?" Kay asked passively while the four of them watched the towers of the harbor pass.

Jess tore her gaze away from the horizon to look at Kay. "Yeah, probably two or three till dark." she replied.

Kay then too turned her eyes towards Jess, though they quickly darted down at Miho and a smirk ran across her lips as her eyes returned to Jess. "Wanna drive a Sherman?"

Whitney peered out from behind Jess in surprise while Jess herself shrilly exclaimed; "_Do I_!?"

"I'll take that as a yes." Kay chirped.

* * *

**15 minutes later...**

"Hey, are we actually allowed to do this?" Jess asked, taking her seat in Kay's M4 Sherman, sitting in the driver's seat.

"_Hey_, my tank, my rules." remarked Kay, who sat across from her in the assistant driver/bow gunner seat, slipping in through the hatch on the roof. Miho and Whitney took their place in the turret as gunner and loader respectively. They were down a fifth crewman for the commander, but for now that didn't matter as Kay left the top hatch open above her and raised her seat so she could look around outside easily.

"If you say so…" mused Jess, not entirely convinced.

"Oh relax. Now hit the ignition." Kay reassured her, ushering her on.

Jess took a few quick breaths, it was stuffy in here already and the enclosed spaces were not helping. She popped open the hatch above her to increase airflow before hitting the button, making the Sherman's engine roar to life.

Kay clasped her hands. "Good! Now, don't forget, headset on!" she yelled over the engine.

"Right!" said Jess, putting her headset on. "On that note, we might want these." she added, hoisting up a baby blue Advanced Combat Helmet and handing it to Kay. These were identical to the helmets worn by UN peacekeepers, but without any symbols or markings.

"Oh fuck yeah." chirped Kay, taking the helmet and clipping it on while Jess handed another pair to Miho and Whitney.

"Mucha betta." said Miho over the headset, causing Jess to look over her shoulder at her, while she gave her a quick thumbs up, then across to Kay.

"We're working on it, alright?" said Kay, clear as day through the tank's internal radio. "Now then, see the pedals on the floor, they're not unlike a normal car's. As you probably know, the Sherman was built so that anyone who knew how to drive a car could drive a Sherman."

"But I don't drive yet." Jess quietly mumbled, though through the internal radio, it came through clear for everyone.

"Well, you know the general idea of how a car works, right? The pedals work the same way, the only difference is the levers." she paused for a moment, "And the weight by about twenty-five times…" she tacked on. "Just hit the pedal and get us out of the garage, then pull this lever-" Kay leaned over and tapped the corresponding lever. "To turn us right. The one across from us will make us go left. The lever below you to the right is the clutch.

"Okay… here goes." said Jess, slowly pressing the accelerator, making the tank start to creep forward before rolling down the ramp from the garage in the motor pool.

"See, not too bad?" said Kay as Jess pulled one of the levers, making the tank turn right. But she must have misshifted or something as the tank lurched forward and a slight _ping _rung through the hull of the tank. Jess cringed and looked to her right at Kay who had just smacked her head into the rim of the hatch as she was lowering herself back down. "Really glad you gave out those helmets right about now…" she muttered, sitting back down.

"I- I'm sorry. This position is just… uuugh, I'm having some anxiety right about now." Jess whined, hands shaking slightly.

"Are you claustrophobic?" Kay asked.

"I- no. I don't think so." Jess replied.

"Well, see if you can get us down this road at least, it's good to have each crewman know the basics of tank control in case someone gets knocked out." said Kay, raising herself back out of the hatch. "Alright, move forward." she said.

Hesitantly, Jess began to accelerate. "Okay, we're in the clear now, away from any structures. I can see the range just to our left against the trees. If you want to try a few maneuvers, you've got free space to try them." said Kay, still partially outside the tank.

Jess nodded, despite no one else being able to see her do so. "Yeah, getting the experience is probably a good idea." she said and tried a few turns and practiced shifting. It wasn't as bad as she initially thought, but she couldn't help but feel she wasn't doing so hot.

After about fifteen minutes of practice, she brought the Sherman to a halt. "Okay, think I'm done with driving. Honestly, I feel like a sub-par driver."

Kay dropped back inside the tank and turned to face Jess, "Oh, nah, for your first time, you did pretty good. But if you wanna switch with someone… actually… this might be a good time for you and your friend to swap. I won't have to peer out of the top hatch and you can try your hand at commanding.

It wasn't her ego talking, but something about commanding sounded very appealing to her. "Alright, why not." she replied.

"That's the spirit!" Kay chirped as Jess climbed out of the hatch above her and clung to the tank turret as Whitney climbed out of the turret, it was around now that she also realized the turret had been moved about ninety degrees. She guessed Whitney was getting a feel for the turret controls. "On second thought…" both she and Whitney heard Kay say through the radio - their headsets and helmets still on. "Miho-chan, suitchi." and moments later Miho and Kay climbed out of their hatches and started switching positions.

Once the position switch was finished; Kay and Jess in the turret and Miho and Whitney in the hull. It took a bit to get everyone sorted as Kay's Sherman only had one turret hatch. "Alright, Whitney was it? Remember what I said to-" she was cut off as the Sherman began to move. "W-woah!" the tank lurched forward and began cruising towards the firing range. It was far from _gliding _per say, but Jess felt that the ride was much smoother than when she was driving.

Kay cupped her hand over her headset's mic and looked to Jess across the gun from her. "She's good." she said, but due to the engine noise, sounded like a whisper.

"Apparently she's a bit of a car enthusiast." offered Jess.

Kay nodded and put a finger to her lips, winking at Jess, "That would make things a lot easier for her." she then removed her other hand from her mic. "Alright, Whitney, when you get to the front of the range, hold fast. I want to see how well the commander can call her targets." Kay then pulled a pair of binoculars and handed them to Jess.

It was only a few moment later that the Sherman came to a halt and Kay signaled Jess to poke her head out of the turret and scan for targets on the range. Jess did so, opening the hatch back up and sticking half her body up out of the turret, raising her binoculars to look down range, but she didn't really need them for the first target she found.

The range was set up to allow for quick recognition of range and angle with markers set out every two-hundred and fifty meters and chalk lines drawn on the dirt. The targets appeared to be metal cutouts of various tanks - aluminum perhaps. The first target Jess spotted was the cutout of the profile of a Jagdpanther. She'd heard stories from her mother about Tankery and even first-hand war stories from her grandfather who commanded his own Sherman-76 in the war; her references just clicked with her - instinct meshing with second experience. "Gunner. Load AP shell. Tank. Left. Four-hundred meters." she called out. The turret of the Sherman rotating to meet her target, then once it stopped, Jess did a quick, momentary double check, her eyes flicking between the gun barrel and her target. "Fire!"

The report of the turret rang Jess's ears, damn near blowing them - would have if not for her headset. The armor piercing 75mm round passed clean through the aluminum sheet metal and soared across the nearly four mile stretch of land that made up the range and practice course beyond which ran nearly the entire length of the ship, burying itself into the thick dirt between the surface and the ship's superstructure. "Shot!" exclaimed Kay.

The wit however was non-existent within Jess's mind at the moment. There was no smug, _No-shit-sherlock, _smart-ass quip from her, just adrenaline. "Gun ready!" added Kay.

Jess spotted her next target, only using the range markers to help her estimate the range, since almost none of the targets were placed on the actual range lines. She raised her binoculars. "Gunner. AP. Tank. Right. Six-hundred meters!"

The turret whired into position, stopping. A second and a half passed before Jess called it; "Fire!"

Another round from the Sherman's gun passed clean through the cut-out of a King Tiger. "Shot!" called Kay. Jess was really getting into this. She spotted another target, almost a mile down range and was about to call it when someone put a stop to that notion.

"Private Pool!" barked the calloused voice of her instructor. Jess tensed up and turned about in the turret, snapping a salute. "Y-yes ma'am!"

"Oh shit, is it the C.O?" asked Whitney. Jess didn't respond, like hell she would with the instructor staring directly at her.

"Out of the tank." she ordered, with Jess complying and dismounting, standing at the rear of the tank. Whitney soon emerged not long after, followed by Miho. The instructor was unable to see them from her angle however, her wrath was to be solely focused on Jess for now. "Under whose authority did you decide to take this tank out for a spin?"

"With respect, mine ma'am." said Kay, who just popped her head out of the Sherman, then starting to climb out.

"And who might you b-" she then saw Miho and Whitney emerge from the tank, both of them sliding off the sides.

"Kay from Saunders U. High. and this here M4 is mine. I took it under my own authority to allow Miss Pool to take a _shot _at operating a tank. If safety is a concern, Miho and I have plenty of tankery experience and rest assured, we know how to operate tanks." she said, smiling, doing her best to convince the instructor of what was nothing but the truth.

The instructor narrowed her eyes, glancing at Whitney who fell in next to Jess, then her eyes darted to Miho who stood next to Kay. Her gaze returned to the blonde. "And… how did she perform."

"If I might say so, she's a bit out of shape when it comes to driving, but her ability to call targets, right down to the range, is uncanny. Her reaction times and situational awareness are also surprising for someone so new to the sport." Kay replied, turning her gaze to Whitney and continuing; "If I might also add, Miss Oliver is also a splendid driver, I hardly had to tell her what to do and she picked right up on it." she added, possibly stretching the truth a little bit, though it wasn't entirely false, from a certain point of view.

"Hmm…" the drill instructor turned her view from Kay with at first a look of skepticism. This however gave way to quite possible the only time Jess had seen this instructor show any emotion other than anger. She smirked. "Very well. Corporal Pool, Private Oliver, consider yourselves excused." she said, giving a salute, which the girls shakily returned as the instructor pivoted and returned to her lodge.

Once she was out of sight, the girls gave it another fifteen seconds before exchanging glances. Jess and Whitney locked eyes, then both broke out into smiles and cheers, slamming their hands together in high-five. "Nice!" cheered Whitney.

"Hear that Mary, it's not all about brawn!" Jess chirped.

Then Kay had to go and wittily interject in a sing-song tone, hand on hip, all cocky looking. "Did I just earn you two a promotion?" she sang.

The two american girls fell quiet, both going a little red in the face. Then both nodded.

"And what do we saaaay?" she teased.

"Thank you Kay." both girls replied in unison, with Whitney showing a slight smirk at this - though both were grateful. They both turned towards Kay and gave her a salute.

"I appreciate the lessons you've taught us this evening _Sarge_." said Whitney, with Jess craning her neck and smirking, looking at her partner and chuckling.

"I'll second that, _Sarge_. Thank you." Jess added.

"Sarge, eh?" Kay mused, crossing her arms and pursing her lips, lowering her gaze… for a moment the cocky air about her diminished - for a good few seconds, really. Then she looked up and her signature cocky, yet outwardly friendly smile returned; "Y'know, I like the sound of that." she said and returned the salute. "At ease War Chik. You too Prairie Dog." she said, Jess knew where the War Chik nickname had from, not so sure where Prairie Dog came from though… "Now then, you guys have a pizza place around here? I wanna try authentic Chicago style pizza." she said.

Jess lowered her arm and chuckled, "Well, the commercial sector isn't full established, so we don't have any- pizza-... rias…" her answer was interrupted slowly by a near audible fuming from Whitney, who appeared a little red in the face. "Whit?" she asked, then from the expression she had on her face, kinda saw where Prairie Dog came from; "P.D?" she jabbed.

"I don't scare easily… but that thing…" she stared down Kay. "We're going to need to talk later."

Kay just blinked at Whitney, turning her gaze to Jess in confusion.

Jess just furled her lips and shrugged, "Whatever you say P.D." she mused - P.D had a ring to it in her mind.

"Oh god, I really hope this doesn't stick." Whitney groaned back. "Fuck it. It's dark out. I'm heading to the bunks. I'll catch you tomorrow."

Jess laughed aloud, followed by Kay, Miho however seemed completely lost- it was almost like she couldn't understand them. Kay finally realized she hadn't been translating. With a slight sigh, she began to relay much of what happened, but the effects were now long dull. "I need to teach Miho some English…" she sighed.

"Right, well. I should probably get going for the night as well. See you 'round Sarge." said Jess, giving Kay another salute, getting lightheartedly shooed away.

"Ah, go on, I'll see you tomorrow." she replied, with Jess running off, removing her helmet and making for her bunk. Her first time operating a tank and she'd gotten a promotion for it! If today went so well, she wondered what tomorrow would bring.


	3. The Devil's Brigade

**Along this story, I'm hoping to sprinkle in history trivia here and there. Not just Tank focused mind you. **

**...I may have made a reference to a movie without noticing it till halfway through...**

* * *

**May 26th, 2019 - USS Eisenhower School Ship**

Jess was stirred from her sleep by a the faint sound of a horn… at least she thought it was a horn. What time was it? She looked over to her left to find the bunk across from her empty, then the one to her right… also empty. Then it clicked.

"SHIT!" she exclaimed, did she oversleep?! She leapt out of bed in nothing but panties and her pastel blue t-shirt, scrambling for her ACU. She quickly pulled the cargos up and zipped her jacket up hastily, it was a little crooked. She'd clean it up later, her hair was also a damn mess, she'd brush it in the showers- or something. Boots, where were her boots!? And Jesus Christ, what was that blaring horn noise! Wait… snares? She furrowed her brow and the sound of horns she thought she heard became more clear… bagpipes?

Finally finding her boots she stumbled out of the door to see many of the American Tankery players starting to gather at the entrance to the school grounds. Many of the girls were half dressed in their uniforms, some had even forgone them entirely and were wearing their running attires. They gathered in a disorganized mob in front of the gate.

The bagpipes were getting closer, the snare was now also quite distinct. Next to her barracks she found a girl nearly a foot shorter than her- huh… much like Kay and Miho had been come to think of it - standing in front of the structure looking towards the gate as well; the shorter girl had short, braided blonde hair tied into a wide bun that hung ever so slightly above her neckline. Unlike the American Tankery players who all wore naval digital blue ACUs, the blonde wore a red jacket with golden buttons and an eagle pin through her collar. Her black skirt was short, about the same length as Kay's and Miho's. She stood there, casually sipping tea, though even above the bagpipes, it seemed the creaking of the stairs in front of the barracks were loud enough to alert the blonde to Jess's presence.

The blonde turned around, her bright blue eyes held a certain elegance to them. "Ah, good morning dear." she said in perfect English and in a regal sounding English accent. Even Jess had to admit, that was kinda hot.

"M-morning… uhhh." Jess started, faltering, not knowing what to start off with; name, her's, what the hell that sound was?

"Darjeeling, love." said the… Englishwoman?

"Ah… Jessie- I mean… Jessica." she replied, still somewhat waking up. The damn bagpipes were getting louder, for all Jess knew they were in Scotland right now, but that was impossible. "The heck is that noise? Where are we?"

"That noise is bagpipes." said Darjeeling. "And we pulled into Vancouver sometime last night."

Jess rubbed her eyes. "Vancouver?" she repeated… for a moment she didn't understand what they'd be doing here. where was Vancouver again? Oh! Right! Her eyes widened as she finally came to her senses; "Wait, we're in Canada?"

"It would seem so, I suppose your officials decided to pick up the Canadian contingent of the NATO coalition up early."

Jess raised her brow, what did NATO have anything to do with tankery, why was there a coalition? Uuugh, she didn't need to be confused this early in the morning. She decided to not think about it right now. That was also when the bagpipe and snare, playing Scotland the Brave, reached its crescendo.

They all appeared down the road in their black dress uniforms; the girls wearing longer knife pleated skirts - at least by comparison to Darjeeling, Kay and Miho, probably twice the length, thrice at most. The few boys there were had dress pants on instead, but each of them sported a black beret with a brass leaping gazelle pin mounted on them.

Jess could faintly hear the lead girl shout. "Company… Right-wheel!" as the group turned into the school grounds. All of them, the girls, boys, all marching in perfectly spaced formation, arms swinging by their sides while their pipers and drummers played in front of them. The lead girl was a bit of an oxymoron. She was decorated with a pair of medals hanging from her chest and her shoulders were decorated with some kind of officer's insignia and she was the only one who wore a rimmed beret with a leather strap running around it with a larger pin on it. Yet despite all this, her leading look was tarnished by what was likely against regulations for actual armies; her hair was dyed pink.

"Those are Springbok!" exclaimed Darjeeling, seeming to recognize the pins in their hats. "That must mean… Dragoons!" she chirped, rocking on her heels. She turned her head and spouted another line of trivia that Jess wasn't very much concerned with at the moment; "The Springbok is a type of antelope found in southern and southwestern Africa; legend says that during the Second Boer War the Royal Canadian Dragoons set up camp on their march to Pretoria. One of the sentries spotted a group of springbok acting strangely. He ordered a stand-to, which resulted in the defeat of a contingent of Boers who were trying to sneak up on the Canadian positions. It's said they changed their regimental insignia in recognition of this battle." said Darjeeling.

Jess sleepily rolled her eyes, wonderful trivia. "Well if you're so knowledgeable, then why are they playing bagpipes if they're not Scottish?" she asked, her mood still somewhat sour and failing to hide the sass in her voice. Darjeeling either didn't notice, didn't care or was too noble to acknowledge it.

"During the 1700s, there was much oppression of Scottish culture in the United Kingdom. They placed bans on anything associated with the Highlands, including bagpipes. Many Scotsmen fled Britannia for Canada, many settling in Nova Scotia, which in Latin, translates to New Scotland. Canadians valued these pipers heavily during the Great War, wherein their pipers would inspire their troops, filling them with the courage to face the enemy, while striking fear into their enemy. They were awarded several commendations for their part in battles such as Ypres and Vimy Ridge. Among others. Canadians have never forgotten the part their pipers play in battle and it's become a cherished part of their Remembrance Day parades - what you in America would refer to as Veterans Day."

Jess yawned widely, "Huh… cool." she mumbled and then something dawned on her. The Canadians were still coming; "Wow… there's a lot more than I thought there'd be." once the marching parade of Canadian Dragoons had all entered the school grounds, there had to be at least sixty, nearly two platoons worth. The Americans themselves outnumbered the new Canadian arrivals by a factor of at least three to one. Even still…

"A survey conducted in 2016 found that of the NATO nations, only Canada and America were found to be in favor - over fifty percent of the population - of international support in the case of another NATO nation being threatened. So the turnout doesn't really surprise me." added Darjeeling. "Their population might be minuscule compared to the states, but they should be judged by their hearts more than their guns."

For a moment Jess wondered when and if this Darjeeling character was done sucking Canada's metaphorical dick, was that even normal for a Brit?

Then the pink haired girl shouted. "Company! Halt!" and Scotland the Brave also quieted down. "Platoon A and B. Turn. Left!" and with a single foot stomp, the whole of the Canadian company turned to face the Americans. Then the rumbling of tanks could be heard and the first negative thing about Canada came out of Darjeeling's mouth.

"By the Queen, what is that?" she mumbled, sounding dumbfounded.

Looking towards the gate, Jess held back a snirk, the Brit asked a good question, though perhaps, not in the words she'd have used. "The fuck?" she mused aloud.

It seemed the Canadians had brought some of their own tanks. Two of them looked to be plain old Shermans with stripped down tracks - they had no rubber on them - one was a Firefly, courtesy of the Commonwealth, the last two however… A Sherman with quad 20mm gunbarrels… they brought an anti-aircraft gun to a tank fight. The last one however might have been the most pitiful of them all. It looked like what would happen if a Vickers 7-Ton had a baby with a M3 turret seemed alright, just a slightly larger looking M3 turret with an English 6-pounder, or 57mm gun. The hull however was missing the signature second gun that most M3 hulls were associated with, instead having only another viewport, perhaps a machine gun was supposed to be mounted there? She wasn't sure what the armor was like, but for crying out loud, it _looked_ like it was riveted!

"Hey! Canada! World War One called, they want their armor design back!" someone from the American team jeered as the MkII Ram entered the base. Then some surprisingly hot headed Canadian girl barked back.

"Who said that 'eh!? I'll give 'em a what fer! Clock 'em right in their gourd I will!" whoever it was, their accent was… amazing… for all the wrong and yet _right _reasons.

Jess then saw a short brown haired Canadian knock the Canadian captain aside and raise her fist. It was at that moment, hell began to break loose…

* * *

**The same day: Russia, Somewhere in Siberia**

Colonel Natalia Badanov had pulled another all nighter with her two sub-commanders Lt. Colonel Nisha Basilov and Major Mishka Sorovich.

"Nnnnggg…" she moaned waking to light shining in through the tower windows. The sound of teeth chattering causing her to stir. Whoever it was had to keep it down, it wasn't that cold.

"Hmm? Oh, Mishka, are you alright?" said the voice of Nisha.

"C-c-c-c-c-c-cold." Mishka whined. "N-n-n-n-no sleep… l-l-l-l-last night."

There was a short silence before the rustling of cloth was heard… "I'll go to the mess and get some warm drinks and borscht." Nisha's footsteps echoed past Natalia. "Komandir. Anything for you?"

"Hmmmrrggg…" Natalia groaned out.

"The usual it is then." Nisha mused, leaving the tower, shutting the door behind her, but letting a gust of frigid morning tundran air into the tower. Natalia had no idea how long it had been before Nisha returned, didn't feel like that long…

"She's still asleep? We've work to do." said Nisha softly.

Mishka mumbled something unintelligible to Natalia's ears, but apparently Nisha was able to understand; "Trust me, I know and understand… but don't worry, I've just the way to wake her without getting sent to detention."

She took a few steps to the side, setting something down on the table in the middle of the room… it smelled good and that was almost enough to rouse the Colonel from her sleep. Then there was a click. The press of a button… and then;

Natalia leapt to her feet, tossing the pair of great coats she'd been using as blankets aside, screaming; "BLYAT!" as a single note rang out of the radio that had been deposited in the middle of the table.

"Soyuz nerushimy respublik svobodnykh. Splotila naveki velikaya Rus'! Da zdravstvuyet sozdanny voley narodov. Yediny, moguchy Sovetsky Soyuz!" rang the Soviet Union's anthem. Natalia whipped around to see Nisha, garbed in her own great coat and donning a white beret, turn the volume knob down. A plate of pickle chips, cherry piroshkis and a cup of borscht and bottle of cucumber flavored sprite sat on the table. Nisha gestured to them.

Natalia picked up one of the great coats - she was dressed in a white t-shirt and forest camo cargos - and set the coat on the table as she stepped forward, picking up and setting her red beret atop her head. She stared Nisha down… then she looked at the plate of food. "You were so close Nisha." she then lay her hand on the bottle of sprite, holding it up. "CAPITALISM!" there was a long pause before Natalia drew her hand back and cracked the sprite open, downing a quarter of it. "It is good though… no detention."

Nisha put a hand on her hip, her darker brown hair much longer than Natalia's lighter brown mop - which the former flipped behind her shoulder. "What can I say, I know your tastes."

"Yeah it's Soviet." commented Mishka, who had gotten up and picked up the other coat from the ground, throwing it over herself and approaching the two girls. Nisha handed her a thermos that had been sitting on the table. "Thanks." she said, taking the offered drink.

"No! It is respectful!" Natalia barked, just about to toss a pickle chip in her mouth. "We are the 151st Girl's Red Guard Tank Division! We must respect our roots!"

"But we're _not _Soviet anymore." replied Mishka. "We-"

"SYKA!" barked Natalia, slamming her bottle of sprite down on the table and jabbing a finger at the younger officer, "Do you want the detention!"

Mishka turned white… whiter than usual that is. "N-Nyet!" she frantically straightened out her silver hair and stood at attention.

"Then do not question me! I arose the the position I am because of my ferocity! My cunning and my patriotism! Now, study those maps Major!" Natalia roared with a volume and ferocious bearlike tone that invoked fear in her underlings- except Nisha that is.

"And myself, Colonel?" asked Nisha, calmly, still standing with a hand on her hip, her other propping her up as she leaned on the table.

"It won't be long until the match lineup is relayed to the west. I want you to take your battalion out for drills. I will leave it up to you to select the course, but have it be similar to the ones we'll be playing on. We have plenty of time, but that's no excuse for not coming up with a strategy until the last minute!." she pivoted around on her heels as she made her way towards the door out to the stairs.

Staring down Mishka, Natalia jabbed a finger at her. "As for your argument; NATO is a collection of squabbling voices. Unity Mishka, unity, duty and glory. Our glorious Union values these above all. And bread and potato… those too…" she tapered off… "But those values are not at the forefront of the West. They will argue, they cheat each other, they will steal from among themselves. But here. In our Union, we sing with one voice! And conducting our great chorus will be I." she clasped a hand over her chest and inhaled deeply, shutting her eyes before extending both hands to the side. "So. Can I get an Ura?"

There was a brief pause. The expressions of Nisha and Mishka were blank for a moment before awkwardly contorting to more… enthusiastic ones. Forced?

"Ura!" both of them cheered, holding a hand up at a right angle to their sides and holding it until Natalia waved them down.

"Good. Dismissed!" she barked, then turned to leave.

* * *

**Meanwhile, back on The Eisenhower…**

Jess, Darjeeling and by now Whitney and Kay, who had been summoned by the absolute failure of a unit that was happening, stood in front of Jess's barracks watching the shitshow unfold before them.

What had begun as a single remark about what appeared to be a dated armor system had turned into a full out screaming match. Three quarters of the Canadians, all the boys and most of the girls - and half the americans most of the boys and a good portion of the girls screamed each other like children… oh… right… the amount of individuals present that were eighteen or older was miniscule.

"Canadian Tanks! HAH! Give me a break!"

"Hey Canada! Nice job bringing an AA gun to a tank-off!"

"What the hell is with that medium you brought! It looks like an aborted M3-Grant fetus!"

_Oof_.

"Americans! Bring your vast array of tanks out! Oh that's right! You only had ONE design!"

"Careful America! Don't leave your tanks out in the sun too long or they might burst into flames!"

"For the record! At least we weren't late for both wars!"

"That… is unrelated…"

_Ooooof…_

This was getting out of hand. Nix that, this had gotten out of hand. Jess sagged her shoulders, this was pathetic - for _both _teams. Yes technically the American team had started it, but the Canadians were also continuing it. Thankfully no blows had been thrown.

Jess looked to either side of her at Kay, who had this blank expression on her face, showing a similar kind of disappointment that Jess felt, then to Darjeeling. The Japanese Brit stood there sipping her tea, pursing her lips between sips. "They might be more closely related to England, but they show their… _americanisms _on their chest."

"Ugh, I resent that comment." said a new voice to Darjeeling's right. Jess peered past her at a black uniformed and beret toting Canadian tanker. For a moment Jess tensed up, worrying that the Canuck was going to start something, then realized two things; her expression and demeanor was very similar to the rest who were observing, yet not participating. The other was her pink hair with milk chocolate streaks…

"This is a shameful display." remarked the Canadian captain, crossing her arms and as Jess scanned her over in greater detail her eyes widened, _no freaking way_. On her shoulders she wore modern style epaulettes which bore three maple leaves contained within what looked like the stitching of some kind of medal. To her chest was pinned two medals; one of a white flower overlapped by a shield showing the flag of British Columbia with the english crown above it, the ribbon was a thick green band, followed by thinner white, yellow, white strips before converging into a single blue stripe. The other was a silver stylized six point snowflake with a red ring in the middle enclosing a silver maple leaf with the words _"Desiderantes Meliorem Patriam" _spelled around the red ring; the ribbon was two red stripes on either side of a thick white one. On top of that she had all her cadet star commendations except for the Master Cadet star.

"Y'know I thought I instilled a little more discipline in them, I'm really sorry about all this." the pink haired Canadian added, scratching the back of her head.

"Don't you worry darling." said Darjeeling, looking from the Canadian officer to Kay. "I think I know just how we can resolve this."

"Ah, well…" the Canadian started, looking past Darjeeling at Jess, her eyes wandering over her. Jess herself was about to take a step back behind Darjeeling - she felt only a _little _intimidated by the decorated tankery player. But Darjeeling seemed to have other ideas as she swerved around Jess, to talk to Kay, leaving nothing between Jess and the Canadian.

Jess awkwardly stood there, her heels cocked as she'd just been about to retreat. It was quite obvious what she had intended to do. "Uhhhh…" Jess started, fumbling for her hat and setting it atop her rat's nest of a mop.

The Canadian smiled and emitted a quiet giggle, taking a step forward and extending her hand; "Captain Jennifer Snow, 2nd Girl's Royal Canadian Dragoons, was an army Cadet Chief Warrant Officer before being promoted to the 2nd's Tankery Captain. Allow me to attempt to set myself off on the right foot."

Jess raised her hand passively, eyes fixed on the smiling Canuck. Then shook her head violently, breaking her stupor. Taking Jennifer's hand, she shook it. "Ah, right, a pleasure Captain." she replied, "Corporal Jessica Pool."

"Ah, so you're the famous Pool I heard was joining the ATL, I'm looking forward to-" she stopped and ducked as what looked like a puck soared over her head. "Oh… they're getting it." she started. "We'll continue this later." she said, with a chipper tone, before quickly tucking it away and turning full commander, marching back towards the mess. "COMPANY! HALT!" she bellowed, getting everyone's attention, even the Americans. "Form up! Backpace three!" she ordered, getting her company for fall in and follow orders. Once they were backed up; "All of you! Drop and give me _FIFTY!"_ she barked. A small amount of groaning came from the back of the formation, from the girls who hadn't partaken in the shouting match. But they obeyed, dropping down to their hands and knees and beginning trying to push the earth.

One of the American girls snickered, Jess could hear her mutter; "Suckers."

"That goes the all of you as well!" barked Jess's mother who demanded the attention of the Americans as she came around from one of the barracks.

"Awww… fuck…" whined the same girl.

Jess's gaze switched between her mother and the American girls… they landed back on her mother as she returned back around the barrack heading back to where she'd come from. Jess sighed and looked to her left, realizing Kay and Darjeeling had departed, Whitney was however, still present.

"Well, let's get this over with…" she groaned, the two of them falling in with the other American girls and following the orders of Jess's mother.

* * *

**Meanwhile... not far at all…**

Kay knocked on the door to one of the instructor's offices… "Please, come in, you had a suggesting to make." said Instructor Pool, it was Jessica's mother.

Kay and Darjeeling pressed into the instructor's office, where already Miho, Anzu, Alisa and Peko were waiting. The two sat down on small sofas where the other four were already sitting - they tried to make space for them.

"Alright… so… as you may have noticed, the Canadians and Americans are having… compatibility issues." said Darjeeling, there was no argument, just nods of agreement from all present.

"Yep, so Darj' and I came up with an idea to help the girl's pent up frustration. Now I don't want to go pointing fingers at anyone, but I think a lot of this stems from the American's pent up frustration that they've been here a week and most haven't seen, much less gotten to sit or operate any tanks. It is what they signed up for after all. All they've been doing is classwork and running drills." said Kay, going into further details. "I'd be pretty fed up if I signed up to drive a tank and _didn't _get to drive a tank."

Instructor Pool waved Kay down, nodding. "I understand where that frustration may come from. Even back when I was doing Tankery, the training regiment wasn't nearly as… authentic." she sighed softly and pulled a pen from an inkwell on her desk. "We've spent so long without the sport that I feel that the line between game and war has become blurred…" she paused for a moment, furrowing her brow at her own statement. "I suppose, morally, as it should be, but…" she shook her head, "Anyways, what was it you wished to purpose?"

Darjeeling, now without any tea, a shocker to be sure, raised a free hand. "Kay and I were thinking that we could start training the girls in small groups. That we could get perhaps a few squads of them ready…" she trailed off and with a cute smile, looked over at Kay who picked up where Darjeeling left off.

"...and perhaps once some of them were trained, we could square them off against the Canadians." she finished.

Pool put the butt of her pen against her lips, furrowing her brow. "Getting actual exercises underway would do us a world of good I feel, but we've very few actual tanks. Finding real authentic ones that are _A. _still in good repair and _B. _not exclusively in display in museums is quite the chore. We've only managed to round up a single M3-Grant, an M4 Sherman, an M3 Stuart, M5 Stuart and M27 Chaffe." explained Pool.

Kay pursed her lips and raised a hand to her chin. "That's enough for a small five-on-five match isn't it?"

"Well, yes, but it's hardly enough to practice for any real matches." replied Pool.

"Oh, Kay." said Anzu in Japanese, causing Kay to look to her left at Anzu on the sofa she on, pressed against the wall ninety degrees from where Kay sat. "So what's going on?"

Kay facepalmed again, right, translating. She relayed the information.

"Oh, well, why don't we split up into teams? First let's have the American commanders pick their teams, then we'll split them up into appropriate positions and we can train them individually either with their tanks or ours." Anzu suggested.

Kay nodded, that would speed things up if the Americans were low on tanks. They could train drivers in one tank while, say, a gunner could be trained in another. It wasn't perfect since each tank had their own quirks or straight up, a different control scheme, but it would at least teach them the basics and give them some understanding of the vehicles they were to pilot. She relayed this idea to Instructor Pool.

"That could work… alright, the other instructors and I will have to go around and pick commanders, we'll convene and have your tank commanders picked out by tomorrow. Hopefully we'll have your first crews ready by then as well." said the Instructors, pausing to write down several lines of text on the paper in front of her. "I have a question though."

Kay nodded, Peko and Darjeeling were also listening, their hands clasped in their laps.

"I know they're not very popular or common modes over there, but what do you girls know about Domination, Headquarters and War Game?" she asked.

Kay raised both brow in surprise, with Darjeeling and Peko doing the same. "I'm slightly familiar with the first two, they're not the most common games in Japan, no… but… the last one, I've only heard of it being played back before the ninetys." said Peko.

"It's one of the most over the top, expansive and quite frankly, if I'm being honest, dangerous modes of Tankery. As many safety precautions are taken as possible, especially nowadays." Pool explained, "I took part in a few back in the day, we used rubber and wax ammunition for our small arms if you can believe it. I'm surprised no one got killed or seriously injured from _that_. Of course… it had to come from…" she trailed off and shook her head. "But these days I'm told we use something called Simunition MkIII, an evolution of prior types of Simunition. Ballistically correct paintballs essentially."

"Wow, that's pretty metal…" Kay mused, "Definitely not what I expected coming over here. But… you tell us this because…" Kay trailed off, letting the question imply itself.

"Because during many of our practice matches, we will allow for War Game rules to apply to the tankers to prepare them for our final match with the Russians." Pool said, catching the English speaking girls off guard, with even Darjeeling losing her cool.

Kay quickly translated while Darjeeling exclaimed; "Wait, so now you tell us what this is all about?!" and once Kay was finished translating, Miho added the following.

"You're aware that the Russians outweigh you by no small factor, right?" Kay translated, "It's going to be a Russian steamroller!"

"We're aware, we just got the match list from the Russians an hour ago. I'm sorry no one told you, but we've been given orders from the higher ups… the girls are not to know just how outgunned they are." said Pool with a tone of disappointment and regret. "At least… not until their confidence is boosted. You know as well as I do that if they were to find out now - they're just not ready to hear it. Which is why we called you girls in."

Kay took a deep breath and put a hand on Darjeeling's shoulder, much to her discomfort. "We'll do what we can."

Pool nodded gratefully. "Thank you, once the other NATO countries start showing up, keeping this a secret is going to be impossible. I tell you now to let you into the loop. Please, I must ask you to keep this quiet until the other girls are ready."

Kay exchanged a nervous glance with Darjeeling and Peko, then cast the same look at a slightly confused Miho and Anzu. "Alright… we'll do our best. This is gonna be one hell of an operation."

"That's all I ask." Pool affirmed. "As for the operation;" she then smiled, "I'll leave the naming up to you. Feel free to mull it over as you need, I'm going to speak to the other instructors." Instructor Pool stood and waved to the girls as she passed them, exiting the office while the Japanese girls started to exchange ideas.

"How about… Operation: Gallipoli?" said Darjeeling, now speaking Japanese, "Because the Americans have about as much of a chance right now."

"Are we really discussing this right now?" asked Peko, peering out from behind Darjeeling.

"I suggest Operation: Fixxy Fix." said Miho, "Because we're trying to fix up the teams befor-"

"Uh… no, not this time Miho." Kay interrupted, "I've the perfect name for this operation…" Kay said, "Our job here is to make sure that things don't go to hell when NATO faces off against the Russians, while also keeping the Americans and Canadians from turning the school _into _hell. In order to do that however, we must go _through_ hell first. Which means… there's only one proper name for this operation."

"Operation: Vengeful Vengeance!" said Miho

"Operation: Through Hell and Back!" Exclaimed Peko.

"No…" replied Kay, jabbing her arm out with an extended index finger and proudly proclaiming; "Operation: Preemptive Shitstorm!"

"Hmm… I like it…" mused Alisa.

And the funny thing is… it stuck.


	4. Operation: Preemptive Shitstorm

**The next day: May 27th, 2019 - Somewhere in Siberia…**

Mishka leaned on the edge of the hatch atop the turret of her ninety's tank; the Russian T-72. She pulled her woolly ushanka down across her cheeks as the wind swept against her face, her tank hitting around 60kph down the Siberian road. It was just her and her crew, no Nisha and thank god, no Natalia.

The commander had pushed her to her limits the other day, for the entire last week for that fact. Of the week of tedious study, she'd hardly gotten to spend a single hour with her crew. She needed this break and while the Colonel seriously strained Mishka's emotions, Nisha as dependable as ever worked to mediate between the older and younger girls.

She thought she heard her name be called, but above the wind whistling past her ears and the music coming from her tank. So, reluctantly, she sank back into the turret, but didn't bother closing the hatch behind her, taking a seat in the snug but technically fit turret.

Mishka looked across the gun at her gunner - no loader since the T-72 was an autoloader. The short, black haired and storm-grey eyed Vera Puskov _seemed _to mouth something at Mishka, but now inside the tank, she had no idea what she was saying. She reached for the tank's internal radio and turned the current song down; Panzerkampf, by Sabaton.

"_Into the motherland, the German army march! Comrades stand side by side to stop the Nazi charge! Panzers on Russian soil a thunder in the east! One million men at war the Soviet wrath unleashed!"_

"Sorry what was that?" Mishka asked.

Vera then raised her hand, held flat and tapped her wrist; "What's our ETA?"

Mishka cocked her head, "Uhhh…" she looked at her GPS, "Not long, five minutes perhaps? On that note." she hijacked the tank's internal radio from Sabaton to relay a message to Pollina Liz, their driver. "Pollie, you may want to start slowing down, we'll be entering a residential area soon." she cracked over the radio.

"Da Komandir, lowering speed." replied Pollie. "Can you turn the music back on?" she added, getting a cute chuckle from the commander.

"Sure." she reached over and turned the volume back up a bit, though not enough to drown out Vera.

"You think they'll have Baikal?" asked Vera, "Like… the real shit, not the cheap mass produced crap we get on base."

Mishka cocked her head to the side, giving Vera a warm, toothy smile, "Not sure, it's a pretty small town, no big stores. But there is an old timey candy store in there, just be prepared to pay a foot and a leg for it if we find some there." Mishka had been to this town a few times before, not nearly as much as Natalia had been, though their reasons for visiting were always different. Natalia usually came into town with her signature hard-ass attitude just to showcase the 151st to the Russian public, sometimes there were photoshoots, quite often filled and paid for by government officials for tankery advertisements and… well, a little shockingly to Mishka, _actual _military recruitment ads in an attempt to appeal to Russian women.

Mishka's trips into town, while much less frequent were a lot less formal. Whereas Natalia's personality and demeanor often frightened people when they met her personally… well, Mishka stood back up as her tank entered the small rural town; there was not a structure over two stories.

The first thing she saw was the nervous look of a mother and her two children standing on the side of the road as the tank approached… then the mother recognized who was commanding this tank.

"Oh! Mishka!" she exclaimed and waved at the teenage tanker. Mishka energetically waved back, the nervous expressions of the three pedestrians softening.

With a giggle, Mishka removed her ushanka, swapping it out for her bright blue beret that she'd kept folded up in her chest pocket. She could see more people appearing further into the town, probably alerted to her presence by the grinding of tank treads on the road. She ducked back down into the turret to turn the music back off, telling Pollie to take it even slower as there was a crowd forming.

Emerging from the tank again to see the crowd parting to make way for the tank as it entered the town. She gave the townsfolk a warm greeting as they passed, the parents of children keeping their kids from running out onto the road. Once they were past however, Mishka saw several of the younger children trying to squirm away from their folks and after a little convincing, were allowed to go chase after the tank, some, mostly the girls, even being encouraged to do so.

"'Ey! Mishka! What brings you into town!?" shouted one of the townsfolk, the man who ran her favorite bakery.

Mishka cupped her hand next to her mouth; "Oh, you know, probably something that's going to get me in trouble!" she shouted back at the man was left standing half out his door. Mishka could see him chuckle in the distance as the tank reached the end of the road, banking left. It was only another few blocks till they reached their destination. The other two tank girls opened up their hatches, Vera popping out of the turret while Pollie climbed out of the hull. Mishka had hardly handed off her list of items to get from the store along with a wad of rubles before the children that had been following the tank swamped them. Vera chuckled and hopped down from the turret with list and cash, heading into said shop while Pollie stood half out of the hull looking amusedly content with a smile across her face. Pollie pulled her tanker helmet off and her blonde pigtails fell out of her helmet.

"Real popular here aren't 'cha commander?" she said up to Mishka, who was engrossed in waving at the approaching kids. She looked over her shoulder down at her driver and with a single cute giggle, put her hand over her mouth.

"Well, I don't have a stick up my butt like a certain other ranking officer we know." Mishka replied, climbing out of the turret in her digital green, brown and khaki ACU. She fixed her beret before sliding off the back of the T-72 to greet the assortment of children, mostly girls between ten and fourteen, the oldest being only two years younger than her. There were also a few boys, most seemed around fifteen or sixteen.

"Mishka! Can you sign my hat?" cried one of the younger girls.

"Can me and my friends get a picture?" asked one of the middle aged girls.

"Can I see the inside of the tank?" asked one of the older ones.

"Hey can I add you on social media?" asked one of the boys around her age.

Mishka's face went a little red as she was swarmed, going about fulfilling requests that she was able to; signing the younger girl's hat, getting a picture the with middle girls, giving the go ahead for the older girl to check out the tank, telling Pollie to keep make sure she didn't press anything she shouldn't. She then followed up all that by telling the boy who asked her about social media to at least buy her lunch before that happened - half teasingly, half serious.

"Speaking of lunch, we should get something before heading back, rations are good and all, but I want something a little less… pickled." said Pollie, craning her head back from where she stood, now in the turret while watching over the younger teen who examined the interior of the AFV.

Mishka held position next to the tank, saluting the camera along with a pair of brother-sister siblings who mirrored her. Once the picture was taking she tilted her shoulders and looked up at Pollie with mock surprise. "No pickles? Heresy!" she exclaimed before emitting a giggle. "Don't let the Colonel hear you say that."

"Got 'em!" someone chirped from the store doors. Mishka cocked her head towards the door, seeing Vera emerge holding a bottle of Baikal. "And sh-oooooot…" she cut herself off, awkwardly correcting herself remembering there were small children around. "You were right, it wasn't cheap." as she stepped out she was swarmed by a smaller portion of the gathered children. Vera cast an apologetic look at Mishka, "I figured this would happen." she said before reaching into one of the bags and threw out a handful of small individually wrapped pieces of Russian chocolate.

"I hope there's cash left, Pollie suggested we get lunch before heading back." said Mishka, crossing her arms and smiling as the younger children virtually dog-pilled on each other trying to get the chocolates. It was a clever way to thin the herd so that she could move though.

"Should be enough left." replied Vera, gently pushing her way through the kids who weren't distracted by the candies. She extended her arm, handing back the wad of rubles, albeit thinner than it had been. She held the goods she'd acquired under her arm; a few tins of sweets and pastries as well as a bag of Baikal bottles in her opposing hand.

Taking the rubles back, Mishka quickly fanned them to check their values, there was about seven thousand left. "Looks like we're good for it." said Mishka, turning about and climbing onto the back of the tank. "Tuck those into the storage compartments will you?" she told Vera, who with a nod, set about doing so. Though to do so she had to search through various compartments to find an empty one with enough room.

"To small, toolkit, ammu- why do we have ammunition on us?" she mumbled to herself as she searched cycled through the compartments before reaching the final one, finding it free but; "Damn turret, getting in the way!" she yelped, the hatch refusing to open all the way.

"Sweet! I'm gonna-" Pollie paused, mid fist pump. "Oh… right I'm the driver." she grumbled, the older girl narrowing her eyes.

Mishka chuckled and patted the blonde on the head. "Ah, don't worry about it, we've got all day, Nisha's gonna be covering for us. So, y'know… treat'cha self!"

"Well if you so insist, but I'm not the only one getting a drink in that case." replied Pollie, climbing out of the turret and sliding down onto the hull on the opposite side from Mishka, opening the driver's hatch.

Mishka gave a nervous chuckle, technically it was legal, if she got food with it. "I may take you up on that. So long as you're willing to chip in a little extra in that case."

Pollie tilted her head back as she sat down, dropping her legs into the driver's cupola. She reached into her chest pocket and flashed another few thousand rubles at Mishka and Vera, who had by now climbed up onto the back of the tank. "You know me, I'm always good for it."

Mishka couldn't help but smile, this was a nice change of pace from the usual camp shenanigans.

* * *

**Earlier, the morning of the same day - Somewhere up the Canadian coastline, The USS School Ship Eisenhower.**

Jess glanced to her left as she and Whitney stood in the shade of their barracks. Whitney downing her third juice pack and a second box of crackers. Jess wasn't sure if she was stress eating or if this was normal. Shutting her eyes, Jess, with a sigh set her field cap atop her head, straightening it out. Both of them wore their blue ACUs as they watched a squad of Canadians pass them marching in formation. The Canadians since arriving, had swapped out of their more formal service uniforms and were now wearing their signature operations uniforms; their CADPAT ACUs, though they all still wore their black beret, complete with pin.

"God, they're so much better than us." Whitney whined through grit teeth as she bit down on her thin straw.

Jess furrowed her brow; "Easy Private, that's just because their outfit was handpicked. Most of them are army cadets. Remember, our outfit is mostly made up of raw volunteers. Besides, they're in the same hell as us now, they go to school and run drills just like us."

"Like I said… _so _much better than us." the ginger echoed, throwing her juice pack over her shoulder, with it landing in the wastebasket behind her.

"They have an edge on us, yes. That doesn't mean we can't rise to the occasion though." Jess put a hand to her chin, crossing one arm. "And that give me an idea." she said with a snap of her fingers. "Class is about to start. I know it's Monday, but all the better to show them we can act professional too."

"What are you getting at?" Whitney asked, also crossing her arms, the sleeves of her ACU having been rolled up. She turned her head to look at Jess, her bright red hair having been done up into a neat ponytail, in the morning sun her freckles really stood out.

"Straighten yourself up, I'm doing role call." said Jess. The instructors were sure to soon do it themselves, probably within the next fifteen minutes or so. Most of the girls were up by now, though in various states of readiness. The Canadian outfit seemed entirely lead by girls of similar age to the rest of their troops, a melding of superior authority and peer relatability. She wondered how the American girls would react to such means of command.

Whitney stared wide eyed as Jess marched back up the steps to the barracks and asserted herself. Jess cleared her throat, getting the attention of the girls who were up, only about six of the girls from the two platoons were still asleep. "We're going to be testing something this morning, we're going to show our instructors and our Canadian friends that America isn't just a lazy giant!" she called out, getting a half-hearted response from most of the girls.

Then one of the girls who was still asleep sat bolt upright "'Merica?" and Jess really started having second thoughts as the long haired and busty blonde jumped out of her bed and donned her uniform atop her stars-and-stripes underwear in record time. Jess's _thoughts _did a one-eighty as she was stunned by how fast Cadet Audrey Dickens had gotten ready. "Alright girls! C'mon let's do this for America! We'll show those mapleheads what the woke giant can do!"

Jess cringed slightly at Audrey's enthusiasm, use of words and terrible pun. Audrey Dickens… the same girl that Jess had passed on the road before the ship left Seattle, a High School acquaintance - by circumstance only - and perhaps… patriotic to the point of zealotism. This however, did seem like the needed push to get more of the girls to comply.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" barked someone from the back of the barracks, the Corporal with the southern twang; Mary Reed. "Why are _you _th' one givin' orders?" she demanded, jabbing a finger at Jess.

"Because frankly, we need to start getting into shape. To form together as a unit. You've all seen how the Canadians behave. While they may be more disciplined than us, just one loose stone causes the whole structure to crumble, but with a strong foundation, that becomes a whole lot harder. I want us to begin to form that foundation. I want us to be a leading example to the rest of the Americans here. On that note; I don't see you taking charge Cpl. Reed!" Jess barked back in almost a drill sergeant like tone. Mary didn't seem to have anything else further to add and promptly shut up and fell in line. "Now then, five minutes! Be outside in _five _minutes!" and with that, Jess pivoted a hundred and eighty degrees with a stomp of her foot and marched back outside.

Whitney stared at her in awe as she stepped out into the sun, did another pivot and stood at attention, sort of. Jess pulled her phone out and checked the time, she'd check again every sixty seconds for the next three-hundred. Slowly, one by one the girls of 1st and 2nd Platoon filed out of the barracks.

"First and Second Platoon, company formation, on the double!" Jess barked. It took a moment, but the girls were able to find their positions, the two platoons sorting out into nearly evenly matched sections. "Cpl. Reed, Pvt. Oliver, two steps forward!"

The two girls took two steps away from the main formations. "Until we get official designations, you two are leading sub-commanders, take point at the front of your respective platoons."

The two saluted, "Yes ma'am!" they both sounded off, their spots being filled as the other girls adjusted formation.

Then out of the corner of her vision, she saw their barrack's instructor approaching. "Company, ah-ten-shun!" all the girls stood upright, their arms by their side. Jess then pivoted ninety degrees as their instructor got closer, stomping her foot as she turned and snapping a salute.

"Ma'am! First and Second Platoon ready to roll!" she said, holding her salute.

The instructor looked to her right at the formation arrayed before the barracks. "Well color me impressed Cpl. Pool. The first unit to show such initiative. But that's not saying much… the day is still young. Even so… it's an improvement." she paused for a while, smirking. "At ease corporal." she finished, allowing Jess to lower her arm. "Consider this most fortuitous though." added the instructor, causing Jess's stern facial expression to drop and become slightly confused looking.

The instructor looked back at the formation of girls, then at Jess, she dug around in her pocket and held a closed hand out. Jess resumed her more stoic demeanor and held her hand out as the instructor dropped another chevron into her open hand. Jess had to bite her tongue to keep from making an outburst and she could tell the rest of the girls were trying just as hard.

"Sergeant, take your company to the motor pool at once." she was instructed.

With a salute and a "Yes ma'am!" she turned to her unit as the instructor took a few steps to the side and observed. "Company, marching formation… fall in!" Jess barked and took a curved path to align herself with the soon to be front of the formation with Mary and Whitney flanking her rear, marching both platoons behind Jess.

Jess didn't even know who started it, but about halfway to the motor pool she realized the platoon had begun whistling _When Johnny Comes Marching Home._ She bit her lip and with a slight chuckle joined in. To think all it had taken was a bit of professionalism to land their first tank session. At least, that's what she hoped this was all about.

Once they arrived at the motor pool, she felt her suspicions were more and more proven correct.

"Alright ladies, group up over here!" called Kay from atop her M4 Sherman. It was one of the many tanks that were lined out before Jess's company, each of the tanks was accompanied by the respective Japanese crew. Jess's mother stood below Kay while she addressed the girls. "You girls have won the prestigious honor of being the first company to get a first hand experience of tank operations." Kay exclaimed. "Now the way we're going to do this may see a little unconventional, but given the amount of tanks at our disposal, it's been decided that we'll be divvying you ladies up into your eventual command teams, then divide you further in order to conduct your training." Kay began to explain; "We have nineteen tanks to use at-" the revving of an engine and sudden detonation of said engine caused all the American girls to dive to the floor and for Kay and the other Japanese girls to flinch… they seemed almost used to this. From the ground Jess saw Kay look to her right, far down the line of tanks towards the now flaming Porsche Tiger. The Tiger-P team called back in Japanese, what sounded like an apology. Kay put a hand to her forehead. "-eighteen tanks…" she corrected. "...At our leisure, but only eight translators." she paused… still staring at the flaming ass of the Tiger-P. "I-... I'm gonna go help with that, Darj'." Kay ended, hopping across the tanks in an attempt to reach the Tiger-P, switching spots with Darjeeling who oddly looked out of place atop the M4.

"It is as Kay said. We've only eight translators… unless anyone here knows Japanese…" resumed Darjeeling. There were no replies as the Americans picked themselves up off the dirt… "Or perhaps Italian or German!" she added, seeming to remember something.

"I got some German in me from m'father's side." said Mary Reed in her southern accent, raising her hand. "I know a fair bit'a th' tongue."

"I know some Italiano!" exclaimed a cadet from the back of the formation in a more Hispanic accent, "My father owns a Mexican style taco-pizzaria… don't ask."

Then someone in the signature New Yorker accent started; "Why yo pops startin' a-" before getting interrupted.

"He thought it was a good idea okay! Mama-mia- _ack- _I mean, _Dios mio!"_ exclaimed the Italian speaking cadet.

"Make that ten possible translators, though there might be a few more steps involved with you two." said Darjeeling, motioning to the other two cadets. "Alright. Madam Pool, if you'd please…"

"Right." Jess's mother took a step forward. "First to assign an overall commander. Cpl. Reed, Cpl. Pool, it comes down to- yes Cpl. Reed?" she started and then promptly stopped noting Mary's raised hand.

"With all due respect Instructor. But it ain't much of a choice now. Jessie just got bumped to Sergeant like fifteen minutes ago." said Mary. Jess raised both brow, _wow, _she wasn't expecting such humility from her. "I'll give up my nomination for overall commander." she said, saluting.

Jess's mother's expression, even for just that moment in her professional and no-nonsense demeanor, softened just a little, a proud air seemed to radiate from her as she gave Jess a solid smile with a furrowed brow, trying to hide the pride she felt.

Jess then extended her hand and showed her mother the chevron that she'd just earned. "Well then, Sergeant Pool, I name you overall commander of Alpha and Bravo Platoons."

Jess snapped a salute. "Thank you ma'am!" then lowered her arm and cast a quick glance back at Mary as she fell back in line, she flashed her an appreciative and thankful smile, getting a coy grin back in reply and a subtle nod of approval.

"As such you will also be commanding a tank of your own. However we need at least five teams for our first practice match, but we'll be forming six teams in order to make - or at least get as close as we can to standard Sherman teams, we're a bit understaffed with our current company, so we'll just have to make due until a new squad can be folded in. Fan out!" her mother instructed. "Sergeant Pool, fall in opposite of them.

Once everyone was in position, Jess's mother walked the line of girls. "The past week we've been observing everyone's performance; how they react under stress, their situational awareness and most importantly, their ability to equal command and understand respect both respect given and received by their peers." she stopped part way down the line. "Cpl. Reed, you will given command of a tank of your own. Fall in next to Sgt. Pool!"

With a salute and; "Yes ma'am!" Mary switched sides to stand next to Jess. The selection of tank commanders continued.

She then stopped in front of one of the blonde girls with curly pigtails and blue eyes - no it wasn't Audrey, thank god for small miracles. Her mother held her hand out. "Cpl. O'ryan, you will be given your own command."

The blonde looked down at the chevron given to her with wide eyes, then remembered her composure, snapping a salute and cheerfully proclaimed; "I won't disappoint you ma'am!" and then as ordered a moment later, fell in next to Mary.

Her mother then stopped before the now apparent Mexican girl that had said she understood Italian. She held her hand out, dropping a chevron into the girl's hand. "Pvt. Ramirez, you're also being given a command."

Ramirez gave the woman a salute, "Gracias! I shall do my best!" and then like the two before her, fell in next to the last girl given a command.

Then her mother stopped between the New Yorker and the only other original private, giving them both a chevron. "Pvt. Johnson, Cpl. Mclane the last two commands are yours."

Once the commanders had lined up opposite the rest of the girls, Jess's mother turned to face the commanders. "Alright… the six of you, pick a number between one and twenty, no duplicates!"

"Twelve!" exclaimed Jess. Then Johnson, "Nineteen!", followed by Mary; "Eleven!". Ramirez; "Thirteen!". Mclane; "Nine!" and then finally O'ryan; "One!"

Instructor Pool snirked and shook her head pressing her fingers against her forehead. "Sgt. Pool, it was twelve, that means you get first pick." said her mother. Jess raised her brow. "_But _you also default to the last girl left." added her mother. This was probably the first strange and definitely _un-army-like_ thing she's been exposed to here… why were they choosing their teams like it was dodgeball?

Even so, once she got over this initial shock, she immediately knew who her first pick would be. "Whitney Oliver!" she called out, getting a boisterous cheer of _woo-hoo_ from Whitney who without orders rushed forward to fall in behind Jess, giving her a high-five as she passed. Jess saw her mother start to object, but let it slide with a throaty chuckle and shrug it off. Then they went down the line, each of the other commanders picking their teams.

And boy was this a weird system of picking; apparently after everyone had picked the person with the next closes number got to pick first, then rotate after reaching the last person, but skipping Jess entirely, leaving her mighty confused as to what was happening. So as it turned out, not only did she default to the dredges left, but her team was significantly smaller than the others.

"This doesn't feel right…" she mumbled, then her mother who was observing with a blank expression added;

"You're very right… this does not seem right at all." her hands placed on her hips, then cocked her head to the side to see the last girl left, moping in self pity.

Jess cocked her jaw and narrowed her eyes, quietly muttering under her breath; "_Fuck_" before she cleared her throat. "Audrey Dickens…"

The busty blonde looked up. "Oh, jeez, _thank you_." she whined pathetically.

Jess sighed quietly. The teams were definitely uneven and would have to be reorganized, but they'd spent so long sorting this out that it was already noon.

"Err… it's fine for now, we'll have the Japanese tutors fill in where needed." said her mother with uncertainty.

"This is… quite the display." commented Darjeeling who'd been standing atop the Sherman the entire time… Jess had no idea where she'd gotten the tea she now held from. She wondered if the Japanese Brit had the magical ability to just conjure the stuff whenever she wanted. "I'm wondering it if would have been better to organize the girls via their preferred roles?"

Jess's mother stared up at Darjeeling for a moment… just… staring… then facepalmed hard. "That sounds like it would have been _much_ more effective." then with a sigh she took a step back from the teams. "Alright, so keep your teams in mind, but for now we'll re-sort into training groups in order to teach you girls the skills you wish to pursue."

The rest of this assembly was such an utter mess that any confidence that Jess had created by her morning exercise had been shattered. Most of the girls were back to being unenthusiastic or worse, just plain uninterested. But eventually, somehow, they managed to sort the girls out into ten training teams, butchering up the original team… to some extent.

Jess's team however, being the smallest of the teams, was left untouched. Once all was _sorted _using the loosest of the term, the practice teams consisted of the following tanks; an M5 Stuart, M3 Stuart, three M4 Shermans - Kay's, Alisa's and the ATL's - an M3 Lee with… a duck painted on it… an M3-Grant, an M27 Chaffee, a Panzer IV Ausf. H and finally Naomi's M4A3(76) Sherman, which for a moment Jess thought was a Firefly, but it's an honest mistake.

"Looks like I'll be running shotgun with you again." said Kay, clapping Jess on the back, making her jump, but we're going to need a fifth. "Guess I'll need to pull someone from one of the other teams…" she looked down at how the teams were being organized, seeing some of the original crews from certain tanks were being displaced to fit in the trainees, translators, while only a small portion of the original crews made up the differences. In particular, her gaze seemed to land on the Panzer IV, with the only original crew member remaining in the tank being Miho, the rest of the crew being replaced by trainees and a red haired Japanese Brit who in musing, Kay referred to as Rosehip; their translator.

Kay cupped her hand next to her mouth and bellowed in Japanese, getting the attention of the original Panzer IV crew, causing a short brown haired girl to sprint over. Jess could swear she heard the clatter of utensils as she ran, but for the life of her couldn't see where she was keeping them.

"Hai Kay-San?" she started, asked a few more words in Japanese, with Kay responding in kind, getting a surprised look and hop from the girl. Kay then turned to Jess.

"This is Yukari, she can play loader or gunner for us. I can do pretty much any of the tasks, but I have a feeling Whitney here is gunning for the driver's position." said Kay, giving a smile to Whitney as she pumped a fist.

"You bet!" she exclaimed, looking just about ready to get rolling.

"Alright, then I'll take the bow gunner and assistant driver since… y'know, that's kinda the least important role, it'll allow me to focus more on relaying instructions to you and giving you pointers." said Kay. She then turned her attention to Audrey. "That leave you with the choice of gunner or loader."

"Gunner!" chirped Audrey in no time at all. "I want to work the gun!" she proclaimed, excitedly, leaving Kay to bark out repeated laughs.

"I like the enthusiasm!" she proclaimed, giving Audrey a thumbs up. "C'mon then, mount up!"

A few moments later, each time had _finally _at long last, been sorted proper. The ten tanks that had been chosen for practice started up, their engines roaring to life. All the commotion had since garnered an informal crowd from both the American and Canadian students who took notice of the tanks being brought to life.

"Right then," started Kay from over her tank's internal radio. All the girls were issued the same baby blue practice helmet that Jess had handed out the other evening. "You're the overall commander, pick your marching song and order the others to move to the practice course."

"Oh, I got the perfect song!" chirped Audrey from the turret and Jess tensed up. _Noooo…_

Yep…

"_Ameeeerrriiiicaaaa… Ameeeeerrriiiicaaaaaa!"_

She couldn't scramble down into the turret fast enough as Audrey began to sing along with it...

"_AMERICA! Fuck yeah! Comin' again to save the mother fuckin' day yeah! AMERICA! Fuck yeah! Freedom is the only way yeah! Terrorists your game is through, cuz you you have to answer tooo… AMERICA! Fuck yeah! So lick my cu-"_

Jess slammed her hand over Audrey's mouth and shut the damn radio off.

"What… the hell.. Was that?" asked Kay. Jess could even hear just how mixed the reception was from the other tanks on the line.

"_Are we a meme now?"_

"_I mean… it's catchy…"_

"_Now I don't know why… but I'd say that song is rather rude…"_

"_Nani the fuck?"_

"_Das nein guit."_

"_Nani? NANI?!"_

"_How… American…"_

The list of responses went on a bit longer…

Jess hit the receiver on her headset. "Alright, I know it's not perfect, but we'll come up with something more meaningful later… for now let's just go with something generic." she said, then hijacked the port that Audrey had used to plug her ipod into. She had to think about that for a minute… the tanks had been modified to allow Ipod. She mentally shook her fist, _damn you Apple!_

Rather, she plugged her phone in and started up a very familiar and slightly nostalgic tune to any of the gamers among them.

_Dun dun nun-nu-nu-nun, dun dun nun-nu-nu-nun._

"Is that the Battlefield 1942 theme?" asked Mary over the radio.

"1943 actually…" Jess corrected.

"Eh… I can work with that." mused Kate Mclane.

"Right then. All units, assemble on the practice course!" she ordered. "Move out!"

She received a chorus of acknowledgements. Some of the tanks however took a little longer than anticipated to find their way to the course. A disappointing display given it was right behind them.

"Don't fret, we're working on it." said Darjeeling, "Learning how to drive a tank isn't like learning to drive a car."

"Unless you're operating a Sherman." interjected Alisa, with a slight smug tone to her voice.

It too a good while for the tanks to form up on the field. The practice course was without question smaller than most if not all real courses and contained virtually no elevation, the only terrain variety came from planted forest thickets and replica 1940s-era structures sprinkled across the course.

"Alright, hold onto something." said Jess's mother over the comms as the ground below the tanks jerked and began to sink.

Jess had a momentary heart attack, not sure why walls were beginning to appear all around her. The feeling was mirrored over the radios as some of the girls began to freak out.

"Relax, we're lowering the arena so no stray shells hit the residential area or fly off the edge of the ship and hit something on shore. Also give a nice overall view of the battlefield for me and those watching." said her mother.

_Those watching?_ Jess wondered, looking up at her mother's ending statement, seeing American and Canadian students gathering around the edges of the course, looking down at them as they descended. In the middle of the Canadian observers, Jess spotted the stand out, pink-haired Canadian captain, who upon locking eyes with her, flashed her two fingers in what she perceived as either a peace or victory sign. It wasn't the back of her fingers, so she wasn't flipping her off… but she still wasn't a hundred percent sure what she was implying.

"Alright, listen up. This is going to be an annihilation practice match. We'll eventually start to incorporate War Game rules, but for the sake of your first run, we'll omit it for now." Jess's mother began to explain. "It will be a five-V-five match. M3 Lee, Panzer IV, Sherman-76, M5 Stuart and the ATL Sherman will be on one team. Saunders' M4 Shermans, M27 Chaffe, M3 Stuart and the M3 Grant, you are on the other team. Team A, take position at the other side of the course."

Jess pursed her lips, with a course this size, it was going to be extremely fast paced, there's be contact as soon as the first thicket of trees was passed. She anticipated this match ending _very _quickly… one way or another. There would be no long chases, this would end almost the moment the two teams made contact.

It took a while before Team A was in position, but once they were, Jess's mother gave them the go ahead, but right before she severed the connection between team A and B, Kay gave the final order to her Japanese colleagues, speaking in Japanese, but there were to words she used that were plain english. "-_Operation: Preemptive Shitstorm!"_

Jess narrowed her eyes, wonderful words of encouragement Kay. But, with that, the match was a go and team's A and B's radio connections were severed. Cpl. Reed was commanding the opposite team and knowing her, she'd come in guns blazing. Jess did a quick reassessment of her tanks. The Chaffe was her strongest hitter, but it was a glass canon compared to the Sherman-76 on the other team. If they took out the 76 first, her Shermans and the Grant might be able to soak a few hits, but otherwise they'd go down in a single shot if hit by the big gun.

"Alright ladies, our priority target is the Sherman packing the 76mm gun. Lowest priority will be their Stuart. I highly doubt we'll be able to use stealth to our advantage here, so we'll need to take well covered positions where available. There's a few houses in the middle of the course, two skewed towards either side with a larger archway in the middle. We'll take up defensive positions on our side if possible and let A Team come to us. Chaffe, Stuart, you're faster, it's risky but I want you to speed ahead and take those positions." Jess ordered, then patted the top of her Sherman's turret. "All units, advance!"

"On it!" replied Mclane, commanding the Chaffe, accelerating quickly, or at least quicker than the other tanks.

"Si, vamos!" added Ramirez, bringing the Stuart forward as well.

"What about us commander?" asked Peko and Alisa from the Grant and other Sherman respectively.

"Each of you take the flanks moving into the next clearing, the buildings will be in the center so you'll be exposed, but hopefully if they get there before us, the enemy will already have fired their first shots at the covered Stuart and Chaffe, we'll catch them while they're reloading."

"Roger dodger!" said Alisa

"Affirmative commander, falling in now." confirmed Peko.

It wasn't much longer after they began moving that the first shot of the match was heard being fired, followed by a detonation and a scream pierced through the team radios. "Dios mio, I think I need a change of underwear…" Ramirez weeped, then behind her whimpers, a string of Italian could be heard, Caesar, who was serving as the Stuart's mentor and translator. Jess didn't know what she was saying, but it soon became apparent. "Oh fuck the radio! Uhhh… you didn't all hear that! On an unrelated note… we're out of commission, one of the Shermans got us."

"Was it the 76?" Jess asked.

"I don't know!" replied a shrill Ramirez.

Then another shot was heard being fired, the metallic clang of metal ringing against metal was heard followed by a small explosion.

"WOO! I got it! That's for Ramirez!" cried Mclane.

"Nice shooting ladies!" chirped Assam, "Remember to reload!"

Jess was coming up on the field of engagement. It was a small three lane crossroad that converged on a small five building village in the middle. She could just see where the shell that had taken out the Stuart had blown through one of the structures and beyond it to the left the knocked out Sherman with a white flag poking up above the turret. She furrowed her brow… it was the regular 75mm Sherman. Jess turned her attention ahead of her to see the enemy Stuart charging towards the archway in the middle of the village at full speed, behind it was what she was most worried about however, the big gun, the 76mm packing Sherman.

The Stuart fired at the Jess's Sherman, the 37mm round ricocheting off the the frontal armor of the tank, but for as little a gun the Stuart packed, she knew the fire rate could be quite high, for an untrained crew, perhaps ten seconds. She wasn't going to give it that chance.

"Gunner, Stuart, AP shell, Twelve o'clock, seven hundred meters!" Jess called, the turret hardly had to even move.

"Yoi!" chirped Yukari

"We're ready commander!" barked Audrey.

"FIRE!" commanded Jess.

"Taste seventy-five millimeters of hot freedom!" exclaimed Audrey right before the gun went off, putting a round into the Stuart with such a force that it skidded to a halt right before rolling onto its side… a moment later a white flag popped up from the side facing the sky. "WOO!"

Audrey's excitement was understandable, but now really wasn't the time to be celebrating. Jess noticed where the 76er was aiming. "Whit'! Hard left!"

"Moving!" cried Whitney who hit the gas just as the 76 fired, the round glancing off the M4's turret with an ear splitting ping as the tank veered hard to the left.

"Get us behind that building!" Jess ordered.

"I see it, the one where the M5 burnt out." replied Whitney, making for the much needed cover.

"Gunner, Sherman, Right, One-thousand meters!"

"Aay-pee junbi kanryo!" Yukari exclaimed.

"Yukari's got the AP shell loaded." translated Kay.

Jess was about to give the fire order when a detonation from behind her made her look; something hit the Chaffe, coming down the right lane was the enemy Lee and it had just put a round into the Chaffe. An exclamation of "Shit!" could be heard through the radio as Mclane cursed her misfortune.

"Easy commander, it's your first match." said Assam in the background.

"Don't worry Chaffe, we'll avenge you!" proclaimed Alisa, whose Sherman appeared from the opposing right lane, sending a round down range which impacted the Lee's front gun, causing it to splinter. The smaller gun returned fire, but had no chance of penetrating the Sherman's armor at that range. Speaking of firing…

"FIRE!" Jess ordered, getting Audrey to send another round of _freedom _downrange at the 76er which missed completely. "Fuck!" Jess cursed and before the 76er could send a reply, Jess's tank dipped behind the structure they had been making for. "Hold! We're pinned until we get support from the Grant or other Sherman." Jess ordered.

Directing her gaze forward, she heard another tank approaching, the Grant then made its appearance, narrowly dodging a round from the 76 and training it's bigger gun towards the enemy Sherman. She could hear a muffled _"Fire please!" _from Peko as both guns lit up and sent their payloads towards Naomi's Sherman. Impact and the grinding of metal.

"Target has been neutralized!" Peko proclaimed. "Three down, two to go."

Another shot and the unmistakable sound of shredded metal. "Make that one to go, the Lee has been neutralized." said Alisa. "Wait… NO!" another impact and the sound of the white flag of defeats' hydraulics kicking in. "It's the Panzer IV! It just flew past us!"

"Ack… Miho!" exclaimed Kay, "Her tactics are unconventional that's for certain, but she's a wily one! Watch your backs!"

"Is that so…?" mused Jess, "Well in that case, Peko, take the Grant and pass me, then turn and run it straight up the middle, make it look like you're fleeing or we're regrouping while showing your tempting backside-"

"Wait… I don't like the sound of tha-" Peko started to reply.

"I'm talking about your rear armor!" Jess snapped, this wasn't the time for jokes. "Make it look like an easy kill. Go full throttle towards A team's starting position."

"Uhh… affirmative." Peko replied, having her Grant slip past Jess's Sherman, lining it up with the road. "What will you do?" Peko asked.

"Getting into position. See if you can draw the Panzer past us, we'll take cover behind the opposite building on the left." replied Jess, ordering her Sherman to move. "Keep an eye on the Panzer's position if you can while on the run, let us know when it's about to pass."

"On it." confirmed Peko.

Jess's tank was almost in position when a shot rang out, "They're onto us! Moving out!" exclaimed Peko, having her Grant gun it… as best it could. "They're taking the bait commander! Returning minimal fire!" she proclaimed as a shot from the Grant's smaller gun popped. Jess's tank had just gotten into position when the Grant took a round to the back, skidding past Jess and stopping just at the beginning to the treeline. "Ugh… we're down…" Peko groaned as the white flag popped up from her tank. Crap, that means… wait…

Jess spoke in a normal voice. "Back the tank up…"

"Wait wha-" Kay began, causing Jess to quietly snap;

"Do it, quietly!"

Whitney hit the reverse and backed the tank up juuust a little bit… "Steeeeeaaadddyyyy…" Jess hissed. She could hear the Panzer approaching and she had a feeling she knew what their next move was.

The Panzer IV came around the building, turning directly into them as it prepared to pass behind the structure… Jess could see Miho with half her body out of the turret and Jess was pretty sure that she screamed an expletive just as Jess herself screamed;

"FIRE!"

The gun barked and lodged a 75mm round into the middle of the Panzer IV at point blank, stopping it dead in its tracks.

The arena floor began to rise; "All Alpha Team tanks knocked out, Bravo Team wins!" proclaimed her mother over the loudspeakers. "Maintenance crews, report to the motor pool." she added before the arena reached the top of its assent.

Jess collapsed back into the Sherman's turret, being caught by steadied by Yukari and Audrey, her legs were shaking feverishly, the adrenaline was wearing off. "That… was utterly… terrifying…" she whimpered, the reality of it all setting in… "But… also pretty damn awesome."

Yukari looked over at Audrey, confused. Audrey however with her shit-eating smile replied; "Here, here!" in agreement.

* * *

**Later…**

The two teams stood before each other, the disabled tanks being towed off the field by the boys who filled most of the mechanical and engineering roles. "Teams, salute." said Jess's mother, with all participants, even the Japanese, saluting. "Step forward!" they both did… "Good game!"

Both teams extended their hands, shaking the hand of their opposite. "Good game!" they all said in relative unison.

Once the ending formalities were finished, Miho managed to find Jess among the crowd, stopping her and bowing her head. "Wellu played." she said, extending her hand.

Her accent was thick but Jess didn't blame her. She took Miho's hand and shook it. "Well played." she replied with a smile, but she was still shaking ever so slightly.

"You scary the heel out of me." she added. Jess found Miho's attempts at English absolutely adorable… err… not in the condescending way of course, just in the freakishly cute sounding way… ack, there was no way to get out of this without offending _someone _was there. She low-key wanted to pick Miho up and hug her, but knowing how the last overly physical interaction went, that was probably a poor choice.

"Heh, well… I anticipated your move." Jess replied, not sure if Miho would follow, and indeed, she didn't seem to, she had a feeling _anticipated _screwed her up. Long words…

Thankfully, Peko was nearby to observe and translate, causing Jess to tilt her head at the sudden, but appreciated intrusion.

"Oh!" Miho chirped, saying something in Japanese, which Peko translated.

"She says that she thinks you'll become a great tankery player in time! She's also hoping to learn more English to avoid all this back and forth." said Peko.

Jess nodded, assuring Miho that she didn't need to go out of her way just for her, though Miho would - through Peko - reassure Jess that she wanted too.

"Hey! Jess!" called Whitney, with Kay, Alisa, Audrey and Yukari in tow. The ginger rushed over to Jess. "Guess, what, just, happened!" she exclaimed.

Jess laughed aloud, putting a hand over her chest and teasingly remarked; "We won?"

Whitney grabbed Jess's shoulders. "Better." leaving Jess in a state of befuddlement. "Pizzaria… we're getting one before next week!"

Jess narrowed her eyes, then broke out into awkward, nervous chuckles. Of course that would be her number one priority.

"Which reminds me!" Whitney exclaimed, whipping around to jab a finger at a now wide eyed Kay who tentatively leaned away from a very aggressive looking Whitney. "We still need to have a talk… about that… _thing._" leaving Kay looking very confused… and very worried.

"Well, if it's not opening for a few days, why don't we get some of the girls together and hit the place up later? Would be a nice way to get to know one another before the harder battles come."

"Aww yeah, I could go for Pizza." chirped Audrey.

"I second that!" remarked Kay.

"Thirded!" exclaimed Alisa.

Jess then cast a look over her shoulder at Peko, who now was joined by Darjeeling and Rosehip. Assam however was nowhere to be found. She cast a cursory look at them.

"Why not? It could be lovely." said Darjeeling, though it almost sounded forced. "I'll just make sure to bring tea."

Jess chuckled, it was probably as best an answer as she was getting. "Sounds good, but for now, I tell you… I am pooped!" she looked up towards the skyline… it wasn't terribly late, the sky was a deep orange. "If I fell asleep right now, I'm sure I'd sleep through the entire night…" she mused, "So… that's what I'm going to do… I'll catch you guys later…" she said, starting to make her way towards her barracks.

The other girls all waved and gave her similar dismissals. With a long drawn out yawn, Jess left the field, idly looking around as she tuckerdly made her way to bed. But, out of the corner of her eye she was the pink haired Canadian captain, who didn't approach, but that neon pink hair could get the attention of anyone. Jess squinted at her, but she still made no attempt to approach, she merely stood by the wayside, hand on one hip and gave the American captain a congratulatory thumbs up. Heh, it seemed at least some of them knew how to be a good sport. She returned the gesture. Now… that was enough for one day… bed… yes… bed…

* * *

**An OVA/Character Developmental/Fanservice-ish chapter is due next, the Original Cast hasn't gotten enough attention… I wanted to have the next chapter just jump into the battle between the Americans and Canadians, but back-to-back battles would just be exhausting.**


	5. Karl 6:60's

**I'm grappling with the idea of adding any romance whatsoever to this story - I'm honestly middle of the road about it and not sure if it would add or detract anything from the story, so to help me break this stalemate, I figured I'd extend the question to you guys.**

**Would you like to see any romance in this story, or leave it out entirely? I'll put a poll on my profile, or you can just comment something. It'll most likely be the Protagonist and one of the other girls, but who knows, could add a relevant male character later on in the story...**

**Anyways: **_**Slides in cute Russians**_**… enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

**May 27th, 2019 - Just outside some small rural town in Siberia.**

Some may have called this a bad idea, a definitively bad idea. But as far as Mishka was concerned, those were completely unfounded. Totally.

"Mishka, get back in the tank, it's freezing out there!" exclaimed Vera over her headset. The sun had started to go down and here she was without a hat or scarf, letting herself hang out atop the tank. "You'll catch a cold… or something."

Bopping back and forth, Mishka had no idea what Vera was on about, she was nice and toasty, she didn't even need her hat! "I'm _fine_ Vera!" she chirped, standing half outside the turret.

"Ugh… sometimes I forget you're the youngest of us." Vera commented, "Commander, as your elder, I order you to sit down." Vera repeated, tugging on Misha's pant legs. With a pitiful whine, Mishka complied and sank back into the turret and leaned against the loading mechanism…

Vera took one look at her and with narrowed eyes, reached over and pressing the back of her warm hand against Mishka's cheek, which felt like a hot iron against her frozen face.

With equally narrowed eyes, but only partially aware of _words_, Mishka whined out; "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked pathetically.

"Oh… nothing." Vera sang, reaching back over the gun with a pastry in hand. "Here."

Mishka stared at the little shortbread pastry for a moment in awe before taking it with a giggle and then proceeding to absolutely demolish it.

"At least we know her limit now." remarked Pollie over the internal radio with a crackle.

"If Mishka's like this, then I'd like to know is how you're not hammered right now!" Vera exclaimed back, making Mishka whine pathetically.

"Heeey! No fighting!" she whimpered.

Vera's brow twitched and she resisted facepalming, "We're not… commander, why don't you have a nap before we get back to base? We don't want Natalia seeing you like this do we?"

"Uh, I have a high constitution. Obviously." said Pollie in return, her voice flat, but thankfully, quiet.

"I'm perfectly fine and sober Vera! See how sober I am?!" Mishka barked, making Vera wince.

"Yeah, because that's exactly what a sober person says." Vera groaned. "This was a mistake and you caused this to happen." Vera said into her headset, directed at Pollie.

There was no reply for quite some time... then finally; "Eh…" was all Pollie had to say for herself.

Is was clear Vera had to be the adult here. Even though that in of itself wasn't entirely possible to the fullest extent. "Please… can we just maintain some level of cohesion, enough to fool Natalia if we run into her?"

"Da, can do that." said Pollie, "Miiiishkaaa?" she then sang-song back.

"Da!" Mishka chirped in an obnoxiously high-pitched tone. "Can do!"

Vera really hoped so, if all else failed, she really hoped Mishka was right when she said Nisha was covering for them… she really didn't want detention.

* * *

**A few days later: May 29th 2019 - Somewhere along the Alaskan coastline**

Damn it was cold, Jess knew she should have prepared for this - The Eisenhower was in no way going to make it through the Panama Canal, so unless they wanted to sail the the bottom of South America around the tip of Chille, it was the Northwestern passage for them.

She wrapped her arms around herself, teeth chattering. But the fact that her attention was divided between the cold and the bellowing instructor helped her ignore the fact her ears were going numb.

This was the first male instructor she'd seen, who screamed like a drill sergeant. But given the topic of today's lesson, Jess couldn't say she blamed him.

"I'll say it again! These are _not _toys!" he barked, "In front of each of you ladies is the tanker's last resort; the Beretta M9 Pistol!"

Jess released her shoulders and looked to either side of her. It was only her platoon today, Bravo company had actual academics today, while Alpha got the pleasure of getting to hit the small arms range. Whitney, who was to Jess's left, raised both hands, breathing onto them as she too chartered away. Right of Jess was her gunner Audrey, who didn't seem as bothered by the cold as the other two girls. Her crew was still down two operators and she still hadn't been officially assigned a tank.

The rest of Alpha company seemed in various states of comfort as well, the most uncomfortable of the platoon being Ramirez, who was muttering in spanish so rapidly that Jess could hardly even identify syllables.

"You will start by training with wax ammunition. Once you have shown you understand how to handle a firearm, you may begin using live ammunition!" the drill sergeant paused and scoffed, "During War Games however, you'll be using Simunitions-III. Under no circumstance are you to fire these rounds at the practice range; a full clip for the M16 costs about as much as you!"

Jess raised both brow, how could paintballs be that expensive? Then one of the girls in Ramirez' crew raised her hand.

"You there, Cadet Jackson!"

"What's Simunition sir?" she asked.

"Simunition Mark-III, cadet." he then presented three cartridges of 9mm ammo. Each looked a little different, with one having the orange head of a wax bullet, the next a normal brass bullet and the last one having a bright blue head. "Simuntions-Three is a development on top of the older versions of the ammunition which was primarily used for real military training exercises and war games." he started, "Sim-Three however adds various components to the round, making it even more advanced and… perhaps overengineered to a certain aspect. These rounds however are perfect for War Game tankery matches!"

"D-do they hurt?" asked the same cadet.

"Less than a normal paintball. A point-blank shot however will leave the area of impact a bit red and swollen." he loaded the sim round into an empty magazine, producing another one from his pouch and also loading it. "You will all wear ballistic goggles and corrosion resistant balaclavas when outside your tanks however in war games, a shot to the eyes would be life changing and if the paint enters your bloodstream or you ingest it, it has the potential to be fatal." he then wagged his finger towards the Cadet, for a moment it seemed like he was beckoning her over, but then another male adult passed behind them. He walked around the platoon to stand across from the sergeant. The adult man was dressed in similar garb to the rest of the girls.

"The components of Sim-Three cause it to simulate real-world combat damage in a less-than-lethal format." the sergeant continued, as the other man slipped goggles and a mask over his face before turning to face the man with the gun.

The sergeant loaded the pistol with the sim rounds and shot the man in the leg, causing the man to grunt and struggle to catch himself before toppling over. It looked like he had to force his leg to remain stiff, which was proving difficult. Eventually he dropped to a knee with a groan.

A bullet hole highlighted by bright blue paint had been torn in his pant leg, but there was no exit bullet hole from what Jess could tell.

"Sim-Three is a multi-stage projectile. It contains two compartments, one with an acidic compound purely effective against clothing fibers. The second stage contains a paint mixed with a tranquilizing compound, capable of being absorbed through the skin. A shot to the leg will cause your leg to go numb, repeated shots will eventually remove motor function temporarily. The closer the shots are to center mass, the quicker the target will succumb to fatigue!" and with that the sergeant waved a hand up in the air, signaling medics who were standing by before he put the last sim round into the man's chest and he fell to the ground with snoring soon following after.

The medics were soon next to him, one of them kneeling down to check on the passed out man, while the other turned to face the girls. The standing medic produced a pair of items, well technically a trio but…

The medic held up a small box of what looked like patches, the kind you'd use to quit smoking. "These are active charcoal patches," he said, giving the box a shake. "If you are shot somewhere and do not go down immediately, one of these patches, boxes of which will be given out to those designated as medics, may be applied to the affected area to slow down or neutralize the tranquilizing agent." he then lowered the box of charcoal patches, and raised what looked like a pair of defibrillators. "Medics will also be given a set of ionized active personal defibs. IAPDs. They can be used as many times as possible to revive personnel that have been taken down, but only if held by a registered medic!"

The medic in question then demonstrated by having the other medic unzip the sleeping man's jacket before kneeling down next to him with the defibs. He explained while doing this that skin contact was not required for this type of defib. He pressed the pads against the man's shirt and pressed the small buttons atop the handles. There was no violent zap or anything like seen in movies and TV shows, but a pleasant beep and small purple flash from the light placed atop the device. The medic stowed the pads and the man who'd been put under groaned as the effects of the tranquilizer had been neutralized. The man on the ground emitted a long, drawn out yawn, blinking hard as he struggled to sit up, aided by one of the medics. "Goooood morning." he yawned out. The medics helped him to his feet and held him up while as he came too. One of the medics casting a look to the sergeant.

"Dismissed." said the sergeant, the medics and demo man leaving the range. "Now then, ladies, let's get started!"

The entire period was spent learning how to grip their guns, fire their guns, reload, when and when not to fire, where to fire, things like that. The amount of times the sergeant reminded them that they were not playing with toys reached somewhere in the dozens. It wasn't like they were taking shots at long range - they were only working with pistols after all - but by the end of the period, the highest scoring shooter turned out to be Ramirez, with three bullseyes out of their allotted thirty rounds and a nice grouping in the middle of her target.

The school bell rang in the distance; "Alright ladies, we're done here for the day!" barked the sergeant, "unload your M9s and grab a holster from the counter on your way out, you will practice field stripping your weapon before we meet next; first one to master this will be moving up a rank!" which got the girl's attention.

Jess chuckled as she departed, grabbing a holster before leaving the range, followed by Whitney, Audrey and Ramirez. Their platoon - technically both Alpha and Bravo platoons - had their free period at the end of their schedule today. So, really, that just meant they could leave early if they wanted. The girls of Alpha filled out of the barracks, most of them going their separate ways while a platoon of sixteen American boys took their place at the range, it wasn't long before Jess heard the instructor barking the same thing he'd just been yelling about at them to the boys.

As the four of them headed towards the front gate, Ramirez looked over her shoulder at the boys before catching up with the other girls. "I wonder if they'll allow co-ed teams." she mused as she fell in around Jess.

Whitney shrugged and gave Ramirez a slight _"Eh"_ before continuing on; "Would be nice, but either way I'm perfectly fine with it just being a girl's team only."

"Suit yourself Oliver, I'd like some guys in our team, they could fill out our empty spaces…" said Audrey, crossing her arms behind her head as she yawned, the tone in her voice though… Jess looked over her own shoulder to see the other two girls doing the same. "If you know what I mean." the blonde finished.

The other two facepalmed while Jess just gave a sarcastic, unamused grin at Audrey, with an equally sarcastic; "Uh-huh…" before adding her own two cents. "Honestly, I dunno if they will. I mean, you never see co-ed football teams."

With a reserved sigh, Audrey lowered her arms to her side and groaned a; "Yeah… probably right. Sucks."

Whitney reinforced her previous indifference with another "_Eh."_ and shrug, speeding her walk up to be almost shoulder-to-shoulder with Jess. "I wouldn't worry about it too much right now anyways, teams are still being assembled so anything could happen. Besides, we've got somewhere to be right now!"

Jess raised a brow, then remembered; "Oh right! The pizza place!" it had opened this morning and the girls of Alpha and Bravo platoons were going to meet up there for the afternoon. Jess was about to suggest picking the pace up, the Japanese girls might be there already since they didn't have the obligations that the American or Canadian girls did. That thought was briefly interrupted when the loud bang of an artillery piece going off cut it short, causing her to jump while startling most of the girls with her as well.

The school's speakers whined to life; "Simulation exercises are ongoing at the moment, do not be alarmed."

Jess, wide eyed, put a hand over her and let out a long exhale. "Okay… let's go."

The three of them nodded in agreement. "Where is it then?" asked Ramirez.

"Oh, follow me!" Whitney chirped back at the other two, pivoting on her heel as she started backpedaling before beckoning them to follow and pivoting forward again, taking a quick few hops forward. "It's somewhere towards the older topside districts, the ones they haven't repaired yet."

Jess wasn't sure how she felt about that, though it was Audrey who voiced concern before her. "They really wanted this thing running didn't they? If they couldn't even be bothered to fully refit her." she said, crossing her arms over her bust. "You'd think with how much money they're willing to throw at this program they'd be able to do something with all the old space."

"I imagine just maintaining this place costs a pretty penny." said Jess.

"Try more like beautiful billions." interjected Ramirez.

Jess chuckled quietly to herself, the slight wonder of why they would go through all the trouble re-entering her mind. She quickly shoved it aside however. There were better things to set her mind on, more relevant things.

The current occupied area of the ship's deck was about a square mile, give another half of a mile long. So as it stood, while a walk, it was easily possible to get from one side of the shipborne town to the other.

Though whether or not you wanted to get the said other side was another question. The girls were forced to pass blocks of dated, antiquated, unmaintained, decrepit structures that were in the process of falling apart. Restoration crews were hard at work up and down the street, but as the name implied, they were not tearing down and replacing the structures, rather they were going in, redoing the wiring, cleaning out asbestos, repairing the frame and foundation and otherwise cleaning the rust off these structures. As such, there was a hardline between the cleaned up, prim and proper townscape towards the bow of the ship, as opposed to the ruined townscape towards the stern which looked like a prime example of a post apocalyptic settlement. Mad Max or Fallout style. Perhaps more emphasis on the _Fallout _style since nearly all the structures on the ship - with a few exceptions - looked like they dated back to the 50s or 60s. Jess was a small town girl, but living so close to Seattle had gotten her used to towers, the signature look of the more modern structures it held, so the older aesthetic was a bit… jarring.

"Ah, there is it!" exclaimed Whitney, "C'mon I think I can see them inside."

That was just the encouragement that the other girls needed, didn't want to keep their new friends waiting. As they got closer, Jess was able to make out the place's name, it was… curious to say the least; Karl 6:60's, curious place for a pizza place, but upon the glare from the windows diminishing with proximity, it made a bit more sense. The place looked less like a pizzeria and more like a melting pot of americanisms. From what she could tell, the place looked like a 60's style diner on the inside. This was proven upon entering, the place was almost like a classic 60's style diner. _Almost _because there was also plenty of things that an authentic 60's diner would most definitely _not _have. A few old arcade cabinets were lined against one of the walls over in section in the corner of the diner cordoned off with a half wall that also contained a pool and foosball table. At the end of the standard dining area there was a section of what looked like a western style performance area complete with piano, small stage with what looked like an empty guitar stand on it and a dart board. Oh and a jukebox was stashed near the door, because you can't forget the old school jukebox.

A hodgepodge of America. It came off less like a pizzeria than just a deposit of good ol' American memorabilia. It was quaint, wholesomely so. At the moment of entering, Lone Star by Tony Marcus was playing on the jukebox.

And it had seemed that Bravo Company - or at least those who decided to come - had beaten them there; as who was there, enthusiastically, perhaps passionately, singing along?

"I know my home is waitin' for me by the river shore. I know that all the one I love would welcome me once more. In dreams I see 'em now though it seems I'm bound to roam. My thoughts are still of Texas and of home." Mary sang while slightly bobbing side to side in her seat in beat with the song.

She sat facing them as they entered, at the edge of the booth the group of girls sat at, with Olivia Johnson and Kate Mclane next to her - her platoon's current tank commanders. Across from them sat Darjeeling, Pekoe and Rosehip, the Gloriana girls having followed through in bringing their own tea. Though Darjeeling and Pekoe seemed uncharacteristically uncomfortable, Rosehip seemed a lot more adaptable than the two, at least playfully getting into the beat. Miho and most of her crew sat in the middle of the wide horseshoe shaped booth including; Saori, Mako and Hana. The booth was at a glance, at full capacity. The rest of the invited individuals who showed up were sitting at a booth the same size next to the first. This included the girls from Saunders; Naomi, Alisa and Kay. Next to them was half the of one of the other Japanese teams; Erwin and Caesar as well as the missing member from Miho's crew at the other booth, Yukari. This left enough room for the Alpha Company girls to find a spot without claiming a new booth.

The song hadn't been particularly loud so the jingle of the bell hung above the door got Kay's attention. "Oh hey girls!" she chirped, "Cute place here."

Jess chuckled softly, rubbing the back of her head, looking around the place, "You don't think it's a bit… I dunno… cliche?"

"Look who you're talking to." Kay replied with her usual warmly sassy tone and grin.

Jess gave in and chuckled aloud, "Alright, fine. It's nice. Not what I expected when I heard we were going to a pizza place."

"I didn't know that they were going to be like this." said Whitney, who walked past Jess to claim a spot at Kay's booth. "I just heard there was a place opening that _served _pizza and was like; Shit, get me in there." she then bounced past Kay to reach the opposite side, "You guys ordered yet?"

"Nah, got here only a few moments ago. Figured you'd show up soon so why put in two orders." said Kay.

"Well in that case, what are we waiting for now that we're here?" Whitney asked, scooting to the side as Ramirez and Audrey took their seats, with Whitney ending up next to Yukari. "Uh… on second thought, I am now boxed in with no easy way out!" she chirped matter of factly.

Jess shook her head and rolled her eyes, "I'll put the orders in, what do you guys want?" she asked. Kay held a hand up and started translating between Erwin, Caesar and Yukari, while the others put their orders in. Thankfully the song was ending and Jess was able to tell Mary to start rounding up orders while she handled her own table.

"Large all-meat-pizza with triple everything and fried onions!" Whitney exclaimed, not surprising Jess in the slightest.

"Triple cheese with jalapenos." said Ramirez raising her hand.

"The all-american if they know what that is." said Audrey.

"Hey I'll try some of that." said Alisa, wagging a finger at the blonde across from her.

"Whatever Kay is about to say." said Naomi, anticipating what Kay was going to order since she could understand what was being said between her and the other Japanese girls.

"Three pepperoni, a meat and an Italian." Kay relayed, "Oh, and here." she dug into her pocket and handed Jess an American fifty.

"Oh right! Chip in!" Whitney yelped, and produced three ten dollar bills; this started something of a domino effect with Audrey adding another twenty, Ramirez adding _another _twenty and Alisa contributing fifteen. Jess counted over how much they had before adding her own to the total, enough to meet the priceline required.

"Alright, be back in a moment." Jess said with a swing of her hips and snap of her fingers before sauntering off to the counter and placing the order, with Mary following not long after.

Not a moment after confirming their orders, the two girls began to head back to their booths with drink trays in hand, when the jukebox cycled songs and there was a strained groan from Audrey. With a brow raised, Jess cast a confused look at her. "Must… not… sing… can't… resist…" she groaned out through a clenched jaw.

"Feeling is mutual." said Mary in a similar tone, setting the much smaller drink trays down on her table - since almost half the table was hooked on tea. "Nope, I can't it's too good."

Even Jess knew this song and she then clenched her jaw, the song was infectious, despite it's meme status, it was for all the right reasons.

"Almost Heaven, West Virginia…" Audrey and Mary started and by the time it got to the chorus, even Jess who wasn't much of a singer, knew the lyrics by heart and had to join in. You had to live under a rock to not know the lyrics thanks to it's meme status courtesy of the Fallout 76 trailer, bless it's buggy-ass heart. "Country rooooaaads, take me hoooome, to the plaaaaace, I belooooong, West Virginiaaaaa, mountain mamaaaaa, take me hooooome, country roaaaads."

Audrey and Mary seemed to know the rest of the song, Jess wasn't nearly familiar enough with the song to be able to sing it by heart, though she did jump in whenever the chorus came along. Much to her surprise, even Kay and Alisa seemed to know the chorus and on the second passing of it, they too joined in, with those unfamiliar with the song, yes, even the Gloriana girls, snapping to the beat.

This right here was wholesome shit and it made Jess feel all warm and fuzzy inside. The group of girls had been so enthralled by the song that they hadn't even noticed that someone else had entered the diner halfway through it.

* * *

**Earlier that same day…**

Jennifer Snow blew some of her pink hair out of her face, pulling out a hairpin and pinning it behind her ear before straightening her black beret. While she didn't have academic classes, she'd graduated high school last year - the only reason she was here was due to Cadets and an interest in joining a university or collage tankery team as a way into said educational foundations. But as the oldest of the girls that had been gathered here, the Canadian ones at least, and the highest ranking tanker among the Canadian contingent, it was her responsibility to keep them and the boys in line.

As she walked around the school grounds, the bell signaling period change was rung and she watched girls and boys file into and out of the school building, with some boys going to the range, some of the girls getting off early and others hitting the showers after running drills.

From what she could see, all was in order, everyone was going to where they were demanded. At least the Canadians under her command were, the Americans didn't fall under her domain, so even if she saw some who weren't, it's not like she could do anything about it. There was one other unit she had to check on that wasn't on school grounds, off on the practice course. A quick walk down to the motor pool to borrow an open top Willys Jeep, lacking the Big-50 that most came with, to drive the length of the practice course and she eventually found the unit in question - a unit consisting entirely of boys.

Jenny dismounted the jeep and walked over to where the boys were gathered, there were about sixteen of them, a full platoon. She had special interest in this platoon however. As she approached she saw a boy, slightly younger than her, sitting up against the truck the platoon had taken out here, seemingly fast asleep with a Canadian Ross Rifle propped against his shoulder. She sighed lightly and shook her head, she recognized that mug anywhere.

"How long as my little brother been asleep?" she asked one of the cadet boys.

The cadet turned about and saluted the captain. "About ten minutes ma'am."

"At ease." she waved the cadet down, then scanned the equipment they'd brought with them. From the looks of it they were about to do a skirmish exercise - a War Game without tanks. Among the kit they'd brought with them was a 105mm howitzer, she wasn't sure if they planned on using it, but with a smirk playing across her lips she asked; "Skirmish right? Have you tested the howitzer?"

"N-no ma'am. We're just waiting for our instructor, he went over to the other side to get the other team ready." replied the cadet.

Jenny's eyes dipped back to her sleeping brother, the smirk never fading. She pulled her radio from her chest and pressed the button on the receiver. "CP this is Captain Snow, I'm out checking in with…" she looked at the cadet's uniform, searching for their insignia. "Echo company, I've got a sleeping cadet on the field, request permission to rudely awaken him with a 105mm howitzer. Over."

"Uhhh… Captain Snow, you mean to fire a blank off, correct?" replied CP.

"Affirmative CP, can this be logged as a training or test fire?" asked Jenny.

"Can confirm Snow, informing Instructor Davis now." said CP, "Will alert those present on the school grounds." there was a brief pause and for a moment Jenny thought CP had left. "Oh and one more thing Snow. Over."

Jenny raised a brow, "Yes CP?"

"Get it on camera. Out."

With a snirk, Jenny quickly ordered the cadets to load a blank shell and plug their ears, telling another to get their smart phone ready… a few moment later and the howitzer barked and sent her brother sprawling across the floor as he virtually jumped out of his skin as the gun went off.

"Got it!" exclaimed one of the cadets, holding his phone out to capture this precious moment before bursting out laughing… as did most of the other cadets. Meanwhile Jacob, Jenny's brother, initially looked very freaked out, but upon realizing just what had happened, his sense of humor kicked in.

"My ears are fucking bleeding you cunts!" he barked, though in reality, that may have been an exaggeration as he stood up and rubbed his eyes. "On the other hand, I'm not tired anymore."

Jenny herself couldn't hold back some laughter and between guffaws, managed to tell her brother that should teach him not to fall asleep next to a freaking howitzer. She stepped forward and picked up the fallen Ross Rifle, looking it over; off the field her brother was undisciplined but on the field… the amount of care he took for this rifle spoke volumes. It was in immaculate condition. She tossed it back to him, with him narrowly catching it. "I need you on your a-game, we're going to face off against the Americans over the weekend. A small scale war game and I want your platoon to support us as infantry."

"W- Us?!" exclaimed one of the cadets. "Finally!"

"Of course, why do you think I had you brought out for practice?" she replied, giving the cadet a thumbs up with a click of her tongue. She then turned back to her brother and offered him a hand up. "It's gonna be a flag war game, ten tanks and twenty-four infantry on each team… I know, should be thirty-two, but we just don't have those numbers."

Her brother, now on his feet, scratched behind his head, holding his rifle in his other hand. "What about tanks? I thought we only had five."

"We're docking at a Yukon-Northwest Territories military base that also holds one of our tankery courses, we'll be picking up additional tanks there, just enough to fill our arsenal." Jenny explained, then snapped her fingers and bounced on her heels. "On that note, I need to extend the challenge to the American commander."

Her brother saluted, "Alright commander, I'll try not to fall asleep again." he said, ending with a quiet chuckle.

Jenny laughed back, "You better not, or next time it's a 150mm." before returning to her jeep and taking it back to the school grounds and then out onto the roads of town. She was pretty sure where they had gone, she'd seen them leave the school and had overheard one of the english speaking Japanese girls talking about a meeting at a pizza place… it was only a matter of time until she found it.

* * *

**In the Present…**

It was an awkward sort of encounter. Jess sat down with the pizzas as the Canadian captain stood over their table. The pink haired cadet reaching up and removing her beret. "Sorry for interrupting." she said warmly and with an equally cozy smile. "I simply needed to extend something to you. Relay a message to you I suppose."

Jess pursed her lips and looked across at Kay and her crew, then over at the Japanese girls and finally her platoon commanders. With a sign, she returned her hesitant gaze to Captain Snow. "Let me guess." she began, unenthusiastically, "It's got to do with our upcoming match?"

Sinking her hands into her pockets, she gave a nearly remorseful nod. "Aye, it is. I wanted to let you know that a prime opportunity to have our match is approaching. We'll be stopping at a nearby military base and tankery course - this carrier is just far too small for an actual match. We'll be using standard entry level rules when it comes to tanks, a ten against ten match, with accompanying war game rules, allowing for twenty-four infantry."

"Ten against ten? We don't have ten tanks!" Jess exclaimed, getting Kay to pause mid pizza.

"Don't worry about it girl, we've got a few extra tanks you can add to your arsenal if you need 'em." she said, snapping her finger and giving Jess a finger gun and a wink.

"You'd do that?" Jess asked softly, a faint smile across her lips.

"What did you expect?" Kay asked, "Saunders isn't one to back out of a challenge." she then looked up at the Canadian with a competitive grin, shooting her a finger gun. "Expect to see us there alongside Alpha and Bravo."

Jennifer went cross eyed at Kay's finger gun, shaking her head to get her eyes to un-fixate. "That's fair and perfectly reasonable." she replied, pausing and looking over the booth of girls, then giving them a salute. "I look forward to meeting you in battle."

Jess nodded, giving a salute back while at her seat before Jennifer left. For a moment, she was worried and remembered something Whitney had said the other days; _God, they're so much better than us._ And in a lot of ways, she was right, the Canadians were more disciplined, had more military experience thanks to the amount of army cadets in their ranks, and their leader was older - by common standard - and level headed.

"Don't worry too much." said Kay from across the table, holding a piece of pizza up to her mouth and taking a bite, with Alisa filling in for her;

"You've got us with you, we'll help you show those mapleheads."

Jess emitted a soft chuckle, passively eating her pizza while counting off the amount of tanks they'd have. It still wouldn't be an even match. They'd be adding Saunders' M4, their M4A1, and M4A3(76)w… That would give them eight tanks, to the Canadian's ten. "Think they'll allow non-American tanks into the match?"

"We can ask. What are you thinking?" Kay resumed, after having finished her bite, leaning on the table with one arm.

Jess looked between Alisa and Kay, biting her lip; "Well, if we're not adding the Ooarai Lee, then perhaps we can borrow their Panzer and… maybe Gloriana's Crusader? It would be beneficial to add some fast movers to our squadron."

"I'll ask Miho about adding her Panzer to our lineup, otherwise you'll have to ask Darjeeling about the Crusader." Kay replied, about to take another bite of pizza only to go wide eyed at the half devoured large pizza before Whitney. "I can't help but feel like that's a challenge." she uttered.

Whitney clamped both hands onto the edge of the table. "I'm always game for an eating competition." she chirped.

A snirk from Audrey was heard and she pulled out a five dollar bill. "I'm putting five on Whitney."

Producing another fiver, Alise slammed it down on the table. "I'll take that action."

Jess rolled her eyes as she swung around in her seat onto her knees to lean over towards the booth where the Gloriana girls sat. She cleared her throat, from what she could tell the others were swapping awkward conversation, comparing englandisms and americanisms and which ones were more fun… things like that. "Err, Darjeeling."

The blonde craned her head to look over her shoulder, setting her tea down. "Yes dear?"

Jess mumbled under her breath; "Wish you'd stop calling me that…" before normally asking, "We're going to be out gunned in the coming match with the Canadians, can we borrow one of your Crusader tanks?"

Darjeeling, without directly replying, turned her gaze towards the red-headed Japanese Brit, Rosehip; "Rosehip, would it be too much trouble to ask if you'd be alright with joining the American team in their coming match, they wish to add your Crusader to their lineup."

Rosehip canted her head towards Jess excitedly, leaning over to see her properly, almost spilling her tea. "Hai!" with her expression contorting into that of befuddlement. She shook her head and clenched her eyes. "I- I mean, yeah! Would love to!"

Jess couldn't help but smile at the frazzled reaction from the less regal Brit. "Thanks!" she chirped back, "Assuming Miho joins us with her Panzer, we'll have a full lineup."

Rosehip nodded back, with Darjeeling interjecting; "Perhaps you should hold a team meeting tomorrow? Do you know when the match is happening?"

Jess told her that it was some time over the weekend, but that she wasn't sure if it was on the Saturday or Sunday. She'd find out Friday most likely. Either way, they hadn't come to this place to talk tankery… though Darjeeling insisted on wishing Jess's team luck - reminding her that all is fair in love and war.

"Yeah… but it's _not _war." Jess replied, catching the Brit by surprise. "We need to remember that… lest we cause unnecessary suffering."

There was a brief pause before Darjeeling shut her eyes and chuckled, "Surprising restraint coming from an American. Perhaps you have even more honor than I."

Jess sighed, she wasn't entirely sure about that, she just knew where her priorities lay. "Well, we'll see if that honor holds true in this weekend's match…" she replied quietly before turning back around and sitting down. Her pizza was getting cold...

* * *

**Defiantly**** going to have to cull some of the GuP cast when it comes to who I present, same goes for the Original Characters, as such each chapter will probably only focus on a select few characters just to prevent me from cheaply inserting characters where just to remind you "Oh right, they're still here"**

**So, basically, from now on, certain characters won't be brought up unless absolutely necessary. These include;**

**All of Duck, Anteater, Leopon, Rabbit, Mallard teams and Oryou, Saemonza, Assam and most of the girls of St. Gloriana with the exception of Darjeeling, Rosehip and Orange Pekoe.**

**The rest will have their specific roles in order to fit the rest in, I'd have to come up with way to many relevant roles for them to serve and that's just _way _too many. Just providing a little insight. Also why I'm not going to bother giving names to everyone in Alpha or Bravo platoons and other examples. Unless I'm forced to or it serves a purpose, I won't bother.**

**This little rant just stems from some feelings I've been having while writing this chapter, but besides that, the next chapter should be up tomorrow or the day after. Peace!**


	6. Operation: Shitstorm

**Big boi coming at'cha.**

* * *

**June 1st, 2019 - Somewhere off the coast of the Canadian Territory of Nunavut.**

Jess stood shivering on the deck of The Eisenhower, it was late spring and it was still negative twenty degrees celsius, wind chill aboard the giant school ship only took it down another fifteen degrees rendering the deck of the ship an icy hell.

"WAH!" Whitney yelped, slipping off her heels only to be narrowly caught by Kay.

She didn't want to move, none of them did, but they knew they had to if they wanted to stay warm. Despite being bundled up, the chill still managed to sneak down through their jackets and the wind stung their faces which froze any moisture that clung to their cheeks, turning them a powdery white. "We're almost there… we get to the motor pool and turn the tanks on and let them thaw out while we hang out inside."

"T-t-t-they're not cars Jess." said Kay, keeping Whitney steady as they made their way across the school grounds. "We're going to have to get in there and knock the ice off them ourselves."

Jess had been wondering since yesterday whether or not taking the Northern Passage was in everyone's best interests. Even if it took longer, surely sailing across the Pacific or taking the Southern Passage would have been safer than the Arctic route.

Audrey sneezed from the back of the group, shivering and hugging herself just like the rest of them were. "I r-r-r-really hope I'm not coming down w-w-w-with anyt-t-t-thing." she shivered.

It could have been worse, at least it wasn't snowing, but the sea spray and mist clung to the surface of the ship's deck and made everything freeze. "Kay… did you tell Miho to meet us at the motor pool?" Jess asked, rubbing her hands together and pressing them against her cheeks.

"Yeah. Yeah I did." Kay replied, rubbing her ears and nose. "Assuming that she doesn't freeze solid on her way here." she added, going back to hugging herself tightly. "Can we pick up the pace?"

"Sure, if you want me to take another tumble." Whitney replied, her prior close encounter putting her on edge.

The four of them continued to drudge their way towards the motor pool, eventually coming to it only to find that the Canadians had already drawn up their tanks, defrosted them and even repainted them white. Seeing this Jess felt like they should also paint their tanks white, but whether or not she could convince the other girls to do this…

"Oh, good Miho and Rosehip are already here…" Kay said as they appeared from one of the garage sections, the doors opening up to reveal them and their corresponding tanks. Both of them seemed to be having similar luck trying to get their tanks running, though it appeared as though Miho was having the worst of it.

Miho's crew was all about the tank, throwing blankets over it, Saori was seen kicking the back of it, only to scream out as she probably fractured her toe or something and then Mako with her head half out of the driver's hatch, holding onto it and desperately trying to get the damn thing to as she jumped on the ignition switch.

"Really hope the other tanks don't have as hard a time…" Whitney groaned as they passed, almost slipping again as Rosehip's Crusader roared to life with a resounding;

"WOO-HOO!" from Rosehip. "It's ALIIIIIVEEE!" and ordering her driver to quickly bring the tank out for a spin to keep the engine warm. That was enough warning for Jess.

"Uh, we should get to our tanks before Rosehip starts doing donuts in the middle of the motor pool." she suggested, with Kay acknowledging this statement with a flat;

"Yyyyeep…" in agreement as she witnessed the most rowdy of the St. Gloriana girls start getting her tank underway. "Like… fast."

"Uuugghhh." Whitney groaned, but was in no state to argue as Kay tugged her along, nearly sending her sprawling again. It was all she could do to keep up without faceplanting.

Upon finding the appropriate depot, Jess produced her set of keys to open the padlock keeping the door shut, lifting the door up once she was able to, revealing Kay's M4 Sherman. Before they could enter however, the crunching of ice caught the attention of the squad, turning to find Alisa and her crew on approach to their tank's depot, going through the same song and dance.

"H-h-h-hey Kay." Alisa chattered as she passed, then opening the door to her tank and ordering her crew to begin ignition preparations. "A-anyone know when we're l-l-landing?"

"Within the hour apparently." answered Whitney as she slid over to the open bay and caught herself on the front of the tank. She leaned up onto it and attempted to open the driver's hatch. "Hah! Awesome! Hey someone hand me a chisel or something." she happily and sarcastically chirped. "I'm gonna break a bitch."

"Please don't break my tank." Kay intervened, entering the open bay door and going towards the back of the garage to find a tool kit. She returned with said kit in hand and pulled out a screwdriver and handed it to Whitney, who took it with a shaky, frigid hand.

"Don't worry, I'm like a doctor with a scalpel." she replied, her hand trembling.

Seeing this Audrey pursed her lips and cast Jess a bit of a skeptical look. "Hey, commander, if you don't mind," she began with an utter lack of enthusiasm. "Might I head over to the depot office lounge and see if that shitty coffee machine they have is working?" she turned her head towards Whitney, eyes narrowed. "I think someone is missing their morning caffeine."

"Damn right I am!" Whitney exclaimed in response, her voice shrill. "I had a perfectly nice bottle of coke under my bed last night and what do I wake up to?!" Jess's enthusiasm now mirrored Audrey's… Kay on the other hand was doing her best to just ignore Whitney. _Everyone _was in a shoddy mood this morning. "FROZEN!" Whitney shrilly bellowed. "You know how flat it's gonna be when it thaws out!? Flatter than Mako!"

That was actually something that Jess hadn't expected from Whitney, nor Kay or Audrey for that matter. A faint snicker could be heard from the bay over where Alisa was working on her tank. All the more comically emphasized by the distant and quiet; "Nani?" in the howling winds as someone from Miho's bay heard and/or recognized their name being bellowed.

Jess released an obligatory chuckle and smirked, with the rest of her crew emitting mandatory snickers. "Yeah, go on Audrey. Grab a few and bring 'em out here."

With a two-finger salute, Audrey slid down the shallow incline that lead down to the motor pool road and turned right, heading up towards the office building.

Jess then turned back about to find Kay sitting up on the turret with another screwdriver, trying to chip away at the ice that had formed around the turret hatch. "Hey, Jess, can you grab some of the oil mats from the back and throw them over the back of the tank? Should be enough anti-freeze in the fuel but I'd rather not be sitting here freezing my ass off while we're trying to start the damn engine."

Jess nodded, "Sure thing." making her way to the back of the garage and searching through the shelves that held everything they needed to perform maintenance on the tank, a spare track was even rolled up against the wall. Searching through the layers of racks, she found a few of the mats that Kay was asking for. They sure as hell weren't for tanks more so regular cars, the things you'd put down to absorb oil. Though in this case they were to be used as insulation for the engine. Bringing back three, Jess tossed them over the back of the tank.

From the top of the tank, a slight, slushy crack could be heard as Kay busted the layer of ice around the hatch. "Yay." she remarked with muted excitement, lifting the hatch open and peeking inside. Her breath came out in thick mist as she leaned over to look around the edges. "Make sure you're wearing gloves while we're out there." Kay said, sliding off the turret and onto the floor. That much went without saying, there were many painful ways to hurt yourself in this sport, with getting frozen to your tank among not only the most painful, but also most embarrassing.

Jess held up her hands and wiggled her fingers. "Check." she chirped, then putting a hand on her hip. "So, how's it look in there?"

Kay blew a puff of hot air, chuckling, "Freezing." she answered. "There's a little bit of frost building up around the view ports and around the gun and turret traverse. What I'd do for even the tiniest of space heaters."

"Least we're not out in the wind any more." Jess reminded her, climbing up onto the tank and looking into the turret herself, seeing exactly what Kay had told her. She then looked over the turret and down at Whitney who had by now gotten through the open driver's hatch. She was now sitting at the driver's seat. "How's it going in there Whit'?"

"Trying for ignition." Whitney replied back, her tone flat as she hit the button. The engine of the Sherman putted and revved, but it sounded like an old beater giving it one final gasp. Whitney repeated her attempts to get the engine to turn over, but after two more tries, gave up for the moment. "I'll try again when the coffee gets here."

Speak of the devil. "Whitney, get out here." said Audrey as she made her way up the incline into the garage holding one of those disposable cardboard drink trays with four cups of coffee and a few packets of cream and sugar in the middle of it.

"Oh thank fuck." Whitney wheezed, standing up half out of the driver's hatch. "Gimme." she leaned forward across the hull of the tank with arms outstretched in a vain attempt to acquire caffeine.

Audrey snorted and stepped closer, ending up next to the front of the tank within reach of everyone except Jess, who slid back down off the turret to get hers. Upon wrapping her hand around the cup she felt the liquid inside had already lost much of its heat. "Ah, lukewarm coffee, the best." she remarked, giving Audrey an apologetic look immediately after and waving her unimpressed expression off. "I know, I know." she added, motioning outside.

Kay, having just taken her cup, took a gulp of coffee after mixing in a bit of sugar and cream. She then coughed back and made this repulsed groaning sound. "Geuuh… wow, yeah, this tastes like ass."

Jess was now hesitant but ultimately her desires for caffeine outweighed her better judgement. She downed a small sip and winced. She'd had worse, but this was a far cry from choice.

Whitney didn't really seem to care so much, that is until she offered the immortal statement; "I'd kill for a Starbucks." which back in Seattle, hell, almost anywhere on the mainland, would have been the equivalent of saying; _Man, I wish I had a penny._

"Don't get your hopes up for any new shops getting added to the carrier till we start heading south again." Jess said, forcing herself to take occasional sips from her coffee. The ship was loaded down with supplies - more than enough to see them through the northern passage - but when it came to the less essential stuff, shipping in the materials to set up new commercial and recreational structures and areas, shipping had virtually come to a standstill. This far north, no planes were going to take unnecessary risks in this weather.

With a groan, Whitney sunk back into the driver's compartment of the tank and a brief silence over took their garage bay while they all forced themselves to drink a cheap man's coffee. The silence was broken however not a moment later when the Sherman's engine sputtered several times, causing the three girls outside the tank to flinch. A few revs and a muffled; "C'mon!" from Whitney within the tank later and the tank's engine roared to life. "WOO! GOT 'EM!"

"Alright!" Kay exclaimed with a cheer, fist raised. "Now, the only thing we need is our fifth crew member."

Jess pursed her lips then downed the rest of her drink before tossing the empty paper cup towards the rack in the back. She climbed up onto the Sherman and slid inside the turret, but remained standing half out of it. "Do we really need a fifth? The bow gun isn't really… well…" she looked towards the front half of the tank, shifting and locking her jaw as she mulled it over. "Kinda point-" then she remembered what kind of match they were going to be doing. "Oh… nevermind, yeah, we'll need a bow gunner."

Kay then too slammed her coffee and did what Jess had just done, only with a; "Yeet." before adding, "Alright, I'll be right back. Maybe one of the Gloriana girls will join us." and starting head out, surfing down the incline.

"Alright, we'll meet you over at the assembly area." Jess replied, ducking back into the tank as Audrey climbed up to take her place in the gunner's position. She didn't want to shut the hatch as she was worried it might freeze shut again, so she left it open, slipping her headset onto her head, over her head and re-emerging from the turret. She knocked on the top of the tank. "Move out."

The Sherman lurched forward slowly, taking it easy down the incline at first before leveling back out on the road below it, with Whitney turning the tank left to head towards the assembly area.

As they were driving towards their destination, the ship's loudspeaker blew an attention demanding blare before the ship captain's voice came through it. "Attention all crew and residents, this is the Captain speaking, we will be making landfall at Cambridge Bay, Nunavut, Canada in five minutes. Say again, we will be making landfall in Cambridge Bay in five minutes."

At the assembly area, at the front of the motor pool, most of the American tanks that would be taking part in the match were present, along with Miho's Panzer. A couple platoons also stood by, to act as the infantry in this match, one platoon of boys and another of girls. Jess's platoons had been lucky in a sense, getting to have the first crack at the tanks.

Opposite of them, on the far side of the assembly area, near where the girls had come in were the Canadian crews and their tanks; A Sherman Firefly, a Ram MkII, the Skink AA Tank and two Grizzly I Cruiser tanks. The Grizzlys and Skink were both essentially Shermans, utilizing the chassis of the mass produced american tank, but used a slightly different hull. The Skink serviced a quad-barreled 20mm anti-aircraft battery and the Grizzlys serviced regular 75mm general purpose guns, effective against both soft and hard targets. The Canadians were picking up an additional five tanks when they landed, but the Americans were already boasting their full arsenal at the moment.

Jess looked over their lineup as the last of the American team's tanks reached the assembly area. An M5 Stuart, an M3 Stuart, an M3 Grant, two M4 Shermans, an M4A1 Sherman, an M4A3(76)w Sherman, a Panzer IV Ausf. H, a Crusader MkIII, and finally an M27 Chaffee. They were hardly anything from a standardized force, but at least they could be flexible.

Jess noticed the winds that blew across the topside of the carrier had died down significantly… the loudspeakers blared to life again. "This is the captain speaking, we've just made landfall in Cambridge Bay. We'll be docked here for the next twenty four to forty eight hours, best get cozy folks, it's a cold one." she wasn't sure if this sea captain was a former military seaman or worked a cruise liner, all thanks to that last line.

"Hey! We're back!" Kay shouted off to Jess's right, returning from her excursion with Pekoe at her side. "O.P has volunteered to be our loader, so I'll be bow gunner this time." she said as she got closer.

"Volun-told more like… Miss Darjeeling told me to attend to this dilemma, I think she's still recovering from this morning." said Pekoe.

Jess raised a brow, hearing the driver's hatch open up and seeing Whitney poke her head out of the hull. "What happened this morning?" Jess asked.

"Someone tried to feed her american coffee… it's never been her thing." said Pekoe with an almost embarrassed face. Kay, Jess and Whitney however, their faces had gone blank.

"No… no, that's completely understandable…" Jess muttered. Sure the coffee was shit this morning, but it wasn't debilitating. "Anyways, c'mon, mount up. I'm gonna have the tanks move to the disembarking ramp. The infantry will take half-tracks and jeeps down."

"Right!" said the two girls on the ground, with Kay climbing up onto the hull and climbing into the co-driver's hatch while Jess ducked back down into the turret to let Pekoe inside, which wasn't terribly painful, given how small Pekoe was. Jess was a giant by comparison, at least a foot taller than her.

Once both the girls had gotten in the tank, Jess adjusted her headset and emerged from the turret hatch. "Alpha Company, Bravo Company, assemble at the portside ramp and await docking procedures to conclude. Charlie and Delta Company, await transport and rendevouz with the armor at the ramp, or at the docks. Once regrouped, we will assemble and proceed to the course."

"Roger that." replied Mary from her Sherman.

"Yes ma'am." said the platoon commanders from the infantry units.

And with that all said, Jess sunk back into the turret. It was still freezing out there, though really, it wasn't much better in the tank. At least there was less wind chill in here.

"So, commander." started Pekoe, "What is your battle theme?"

"Err…" Jess clenched her teeth and cast a nervous, reluctant look at Audrey, who just mouthed; _'merica, _at her, causing Jess to mouth back; _no. _"We haven't really settled on one, we've just been using a placeholder for now."

"Oh… well…" Pekoe looked towards Audrey, then back to Jess. "Are you going to play it?"

With a reluctant sigh, Jess nodded. "Yeah, yeah I guess I will." she reached for her phone and plugged it into the radio, found the song and started relaying it through the radio, albeit on a seperate channel so as not to interfere with communications as much.

"Is that…" Pekoe began, seeming simultaneously confused and ashamed.

"The Battlefield 1942 theme? Yeah." Audrey finished for her.

"The Canadians are playing Scotland the Brave and you're playing a theme from a video game?" Pekoe asked, now fully displaying her displeasure in her tone. It was one of those tones where you knew the person was just going, _wow, _in their head, just not in a complimentary kind of way.

"I mean… to be fair, it is jammin'." said Kay over the internal radio. "But yeah… totally informal in every sense of the word."

"Well, Pekoe, you suggested Jess play the placeholder… so there you go. Enjoy." Whitney remarked.

Squatting down in the turret as the tank motored along the road, Jess interjected; "Cut the chatter ladies, I want us clear headed and with as little animosity towards one another as possible. We'll need every byte of processing power if we hope to stand any chance of beating the Canadians."

* * *

**Later that day…**

Here they were, the field had been chosen. An expanse of icy, sparsely forested tundra on Victoria Island. Some structures had been set up in the course, though most were ruined from lack of maintenance and constant abuse from weather and tankery matches from before the 90s.

The course was a small ruined town in the center of the map with a road going all the way around, passing through a thinly forested belt that stretched through the middle of the course. Frozen ponds served as the buns that sandwiched the belt of trees and ruined town in the middle of the map, with the narrow roads being the only paths of solid land that lead around the the course and into the town.

It was a flag tank match and both teams were now lined up in the middle of the ruined village in the middle of the course, performing pre-game formalities. "Both captains, shake." ordered one of the refs. Jess extended her hand to meet with Jenny's and the two shook.

The Canadians now had, in addition to their former line up, an extra Ram MkII two extra Grizzly Tanks, a modified Sexton artillery piece and a new Cromwell Cruiser Tank. Jess bit her lower lip, their Grizzlies looked like they had slightly thicker hulls than the standard Sherman. If that meant their armor was any better, then the standard 75mm guns on the majority of the American tanks would be less effective… and the 37mm guns on the smaller tanks stood virtually no chance against them. The Firefly would also prove a deadly adversary and Jess anticipated that the Canadians would use the Firefly as an anti-armor sniper. The Sexton was also based on the Sherman chassis like the Grizzly and Skink, though originally an open top tank the Canadians had modified this one to provide an armored canopy, though this restricted the gun's angle and made it more into a self-propelled gun toting a massive british 25-pound howitzer. All the more dangerous, all the Canadian tanks were painted white, whereas the American's hadn't had the time. Couple that with the more elite crews, Jess couldn't help but feel like the odds were stacked against them. The fact that the ATL was casting the match didn't help - unmanned quadrotor drones buzzed around the course with little onboard cameras that streamed the match onto live streaming services and recorded the match for later broadcasting.

As if her morale couldn't plumet any lower, as it was standard with any hockey match, it was standard for the team's anthems to be sung. As Canada was the home team, they went first.

All the Canadian girls and boys stood at attention while their anthem was sung;

"_O Canada, our home and native land. True patriot love, in all thy sons command. With glowing hearts, we see thee rise, the true north strong and free. From far and wide, O Canada, we stand on guard for thee. God, keep our land, glorious and free. O Canada, we stand on guard for thee… O Canada, we stand on guard fooor theeee…" _

Even some of the Canadian players had joined in with the broadcasted anthem.

Though thankfully, it was then time for the Americans, hopefully it would improve Jess's mood, maybe get her a little pumped;

"_O say can you see, by the dawn's early light. What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming. Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight. O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming? And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air, gave proof through the night that our flag was still there; O say does that star-spangled banner yet wave. O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?__On the shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep, where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, what is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep, as it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses? Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam, In full glory reflected now shines in the stream: 'Tis the star-spangled banner, O long may it wave. O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.__And where is that band who so vauntingly swore that the havoc of war and the battle's confusion, A home and a country, should leave us no more? Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution. No refuge could save the hireling and slave. From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave: And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave. O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.__O thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand. Between their loved homes and the war's desolation. Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the Heav'n rescued land. Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation! Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just, And this be our motto: 'In God is our trust'. And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave… O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!"_

Yeah… yeah it helped a little. Jess could a few of the Canadians on the other side of the field having long since lost interest… Jenny herself even looked a little peeved as she struggled to hide a yawn. She then mouthed something at Jess, it seemed lighthearted as she smirked not soon after; "Holy shit your anthem is long as _fuck_."

Despite being opponents right now, Jess had to chuckle.

"Commanders, assemble your teams at opposite ends of the course. You will be signalled upon the match's initiation." said the ref'.

Jess took one last look at the Canadians; taking a quick snapshot of their lineup again, as well as their equipment. Their flag tank was the Skink AA Tank… and their infantry did have inferior equipment compared to the American team. Lee Enfield MkIIIs, bolt-action rifles were their standard service rifle… though a few of them were equipped with Sten submachine guns, also an inferior weapon, though the infantry commanders wielded M1921 Thompson submachine guns with fifty round drum magazines, and their heavy infantry were equipped with the impressive ninety-seven round Lewis Gun - a light machine gun - and the odd, but effective PIAT anti-tank launchers. Generally speaking though the American's equipment was superior on average.

Jess jogged back to her tanks. They'd marked Miho's Panzer as their flag tank and she would be following Alpha company. The American infantry was equipped with the signature M1 Garand, the beautiful and trademark eight round semi-automatic service rifle that America was feared for in the second world war that allowed their riflemen unparalleled firepower when compared to the overwhelmingly bolt-action equipped infantry of all other players in the conflict. For anti-tank purposes, the Americans used the tried and true M1 Bazooka. Complimenting their already substantial and frankly _more than good enough _small arms firepower were those equipped with the M1918 Browning Automatic Rifle and the M1 Thompson Submachine Gun… which… frankly might actually have been less optimal than the commonwealth counterparts. The M1918, or BAR as it was abbreviated only held twenty round magazines, not nearly enough for an effective light machine gun. Also, despite using the same model of SMGs, the American's Thompson was just a blatant downgrade since they were issued with twenty or thirty round stick magazines as opposed to the Commonwealth's fifty round drums.

Though on a second glance it appeared as though that might actually balance things out… the Commonwealth had the superior SMG, sort of, and LMG, by far, but with the Canadians purely having bolt-action rifles and the amount of firepower that the Americans brought to the field with their semi-automatic M1 Garands, the Americans might actually still have more firepower. That's just how much a game changer the Garand was. Just thinking about it, Jess couldn't stop sucking the rifle's metaphorical dick. Even when passing some of the infantry, she had to stop and point at one of them.

"Pull the breech open." she ordered.

"Uhh…" murmured the boy, who was donned in an American WW2 style winter outfit, complete with M2 Helmet. "Ohh..kaay…" he muttered, raising his rifle and unloading the rifle, the en-bloc clip of simunition popping out with that _orgasmic _sound; _ping._

Jess swore her legs buckled a little… she even saw smiles appear on the frozen faces of some of the boys as the sound reverberated through the ranks. Auditory confidence, that's all it was. There was nothing more satisfying than that sound. Maybe the sound of another round being loaded and fired from her tank's gun, but it was at the very least _damn _close.

She was ready to go. Jess climbed back up onto her tank and took her place and waited… then a crackle in the sky. "Alright, Kay, would you do the honors?"

"I'd be happy to!" Kay chirped.

"Oh this better not be what I think it is…" Pekoe muttered… it was.

"Team America, execute Operation: Shitstorm!" Kay barked into the radio. Pekoe groaned and facepalmed quietly within the turret.

"America! Fuck yeah!" sang Audrey, further irritating the Japanese Brit.

Jess shook her head and snirked. "All units. Move out." and they were underway.

The plan was to have half the infantry move into the buildings across the frozen ponds and take up defensive and overwatch positions, though Jess had given explicit orders not to move the tanks across them as she wasn't confident that they'd hold the tanks. If the infantry could take the church in the middle of the town, they'd have full view of the battlefield from its spire. The information they relayed could prove decisive. Meanwhile, the tanks were to skirt the town and sweep the forest with the rest of the infantry providing close support.

Alpha company was composed of Jess's M4 Sherman (technically Kay's…), Mclane's M27 Chaffee, Alisa's M4A1 Sherman, O'Ryan's M3 Grant and Miho's Panzer IV. Bravo consisted of Mary's M4 Sherman, co-commanded with Erwin, Naomi's M4A3(76)w Sherman, Ramirez's M3 Stuart, Olivia Johnson's M5 Stuart and Rosehip's Crusader MkIII.

Jess took her company right, while Mary took hers left, they would sweep the forest and then secure the center town. Immediately however there were problems. Jess wasn't sure if it was on Reed's orders or if it was just because the majority of Bravo's tanks were lighter and faster, but even from the other side of the ponds, when she checked up on them with her binoculars, they were far outpacing the infantry. She got on the radio; "Mary, slow down, your infantry are lagging severely. Let them catch up."

"Negative, the Stuarts have already engaged at the forestline, we're moving in to support." Reed crackled back. "They're not lasting long without something heavier." Jess clenched her eyes shut and grit her teeth. All brawn and little brain that one. She then contacted the Stuarts on Bravo team directly. "Ramirez, Johnson, give me a SitRep and also, what the hell are you doing?! Pull back and rejoin your unit!"

"A-affirmative Commander!" Ramirez crackled. "We engaged two enemy Grizzly tanks, a Ram tank and supporting infantry. We wounded the Ram, but the Grizzlys are way too strong for us to tackle alone."

From the sound of it, Ramirez then ordered her tank to pull out, "Olivia, c'mo-" an explosion ripped through the radio. "Dios mio! They got the M5!" Jess cursed under her breath, already down a tank. She wasn't sure if she had full confidence in Bravo company any more… so she secretly tuned the radio to Rosehip's tank.

"Rosehip, come in, do you copy?" Jess said. She didn't care if her own crew heard this.

"Copy commander, what can I do for you?" said Rosehip, who from the sound of things, hadn't engaged yet.

"I'm granting you secondary command of Bravo company if Reed should fall out of line again, we had a plan and it's kinda gone out the window over there." said Jess, hearing small arms fire starting to come from the middle of the course, in the ruined town.

"Copy that commander." said Rosehip, with Jess then ending the transmission with a little more confidence than she'd had a moment ago.

"Jess, we're coming up on our forest now." said Whitney over the tank's radio.

Jess looked forward as they approached the thick, grotto of boreal tundran trees… there were hardly any trees on the island, they were totally artificial… but they did restrict visibility significantly. Since she was the command tank, and Miho was the flag tank, Jess ordered Alpha's Grant to take point, the heavier armor than the Chaffee and extra firepower compared to the M4A1 would make it more likely to deal with whatever they ran into first.

"Affirmative!" chirped O'Ryan, taking her tank forward and clearing the breach, with Alisa's M4A1 going next, Jess's M4 and Miho's Panzer were next while Mclane's Chaffee took the rear. A small squad of mixed boys and girls moved alongside them, about eight and while all of them had some form of anti-tank grenades or magnetic mines… satchel charges… only two of them had bazookas, the rest were armed with Garands, Thompsons or BARs.

The sounds of battle could be heard in the distance, so long as no one cracked her over the radio, she wouldn't worry about it, right now she had to keep her eye on the prize; making it through this side of the woods.

Jess scanned the trees, both with and without her binoculars… there was little light at this point on earth naturally, as such the woods were remarkably dark despite it being midday. She lowered her binoculars, looking back and around her hatch at the tanks following her. Behind her, Miho stood out of her Panzer IV, looking around with her own binoculars. As she turned to look at Jess in front of her, she lowered her optics and shrugged, the language barrier was still present, so there wasn't much to say, nor would there be in the near future. Miho put her binoculars back up to her eyes to look east. Then without warning, Jess saw the back of Miho's head get splattered blue and she sank back into her tank unconscious. Jess tensed up a moment, the snap of the rifle reaching her ears and she saw the infantry dive to the ground as she ducked back into the turret.

"SNIPER!" one of the infantry boys bellowed.

"Where are they?!" another demanded.

"No idea!" exclaimed another.

"Alpha, hold, scan the area, I want that sniper found." Jess ordered. She nervously picked a pair of goggles off the tank turret's interior, putting them on and lifting her head to look out of the tank's periscope. Nothing but white darkness… wonderful… whoever they were dealing with wasn't a rookie.

* * *

**Meanwhile…**

Jacob Snow cocked his Ross Rifle, smirking as he just put a round into the back of the Japanese champion's head. It was disturbingly satisfying. He knew the rounds were less-than-lethal, but while he felt satisfied with the shot he also knew how dangerously cruel he would have sounded voicing that satisfaction. He cringed and put another piece of snow in his mouth as he huddled in his little packed snow dugout, snuggly wrapped in full white winter clothing. As far as the American tankers knew, he was a ghost. He had them wrapped around his finger. Which is where he wanted them. His sister had told him to find the American commander - not their flag tank - their commander and tie her up, get her to focus on him more than her objective, buying his sister time to set up her tanks in good positions and take the town. If the Americans were smart they would just keep going, but these girls were amateurs. Jacob wasn't a soldier himself, hell he wasn't even a cadet like his sister, but he had enjoyed going hunting with his father, he bagged his first elk when he was fourteen using the same Ross Rifle he used now.

He loved this thing… the Ross Rifle. It was absolutely horrible for what it had been issued for during the Great War. The Ross was a nightmare to maintain and if even a little bit of mud got into the breech you were spending the next half hour cleaning it. Considering trench life in the first world war consisted of fifty percent mud and fifty percent suffering, the rifle was among the worst for trench warfare. However, if you used it as the inventor intended… as a marksman's rifle, a _sporting _rifle, you'd find no rifle more accurate. It was his favorite rifle. The Ross was used by one of his heroes and inspirations, Francis Pegahmagabow, the best sniper of World War One… that he was first nations and Canadian only made him even cooler in Jacob's mind.

He combined the most accurate rifle of the war, with the tactics of his second hero and inspirations; the Finish sniper and best sniper in history, Simo Hayata, known by the Soviets as _The White Death_. The man had over five hundred kills by the time he was forced to retired due to half his face getting blown off, but the dude was so metal that he not only survived but went on to be a game hunter in his twilight years. And to think, the Winter-War only lasted a couple months, if the war had gone on any longer and he hadn't been injured, just think how high his kill count could have been.

But that was enough history for now, he scanned the American tank collumb to determine their next course of action. He could see the turrets traversing round and round as they searched for him. None of them dared to poke their heads up out of their tanks and the infantry seemed to scared to stand up. He gave them another five minutes until finally, the infantry began to stand up slowly, their guns raised and scanning the forest. Again, he wasn't worried about them spotting him… they wouldn't. The snow he was munching on prevented his breath from forming as a mist and the snow he hid in was packed so that the muzzle blast of his rifle wouldn't cause a puft of snow when he fired. The only problem was possibly the flash, but they'd have to have infrared vision to catch that shit. He scanned his possible targets, if he could take down their medics, they wouldn't be able to revive their infantry or tank crews if he shot them… however this presented a problem borne of his own causing. As did his heroes, he too didn't use a telescopic sight, using the rifle's iron sights. This made making out minute details such as symbols or individual kits difficult - impossible at this range. That meant, he'd just have to pick a target and keep harassing them.

He took aim at one of the infantry, since none of the tank commanders were making themselves visible, then he froze… one of the infantry was climbing up onto the Panzer. A medic! It had to be. He adjusted his aim and saw the hatch of the Panzer open back up, a red headed Japanese girl poking her head out of the tank, but she wasn't his target. He put a round into the back of the American medic, causing them to fall flat against the Panzer and go motionless, with the red-head screaming and ducking back into the tank. The infantry however, didn't dive to the ground as they had last time, rather they fanned out and began trudging through the snow in every which direction.

"Smartening up are they?" he muttered and started putting rounds into the advancing infantry one by one, the closest ones going down first. That may have been a mistake. As the first two closest of the infantry went down, the other infantry seemed to realize just which direction the shots were coming from and were able to narrow their search area. Jacob managed to take down one more before he was forced to reload, pulling his bolt all the way back and producing a stripper clip of sim ammo, aligning it with the breech of his rifle before sliding the rounds into place and flicking the strip off his rifle and slamming his bolt home. That reload however had given the American infantry the time they need to close in on him. He slung his rifle over his back and drew his Tommy Gun, starting to back out of his little igloo, sliding down and out into the narrow path he'd flattened out for him to make his escape.

"THERE!" barked one of the Americans, starting to wildly fire their M1 Garands, he wasn't as worried as he would otherwise be, he made sure to take out those with machine guns first. There were only four American infantry up at the moment, he'd taken out half of them. One medic, a machine gunner, one of their bazooka men and he was pretty sure he bagged their officer. Oh and the Panzer IV commander.

He fired his Tommy Gun towards the approaching Americans as he ran the length of the path he'd carved, the depth of the snow providing him a little protection, since it was really half-ice. Jacob reached for his belt and pulled a smoke grenade, tossing it at his feet as he booked it. The smoke would mask his flight and he could sink back into the trees and start invoking Vietnam flashbacks in them. Metaphorically speaking of course.

He kept running, but emptied his magazine as he fled, not even stopping as he reloaded, but conserved this clip for later. It seemed he had lost the American infantry.

Jacob stopped behind a tree once he was confident he'd put enough distance between himself and the Americans, he peeked back around the tree to see the American's M3 Grant plowing through the snow, searching the woods with two infantry in tow. He didn't hesitate, two cracks of his rifle and the tank was now all alone. Now was the easy part. With the tank separated from the pack he waited until the smaller turret atop it was turned the other direction before rushing it, diving past the tank and slapping a magnetic mine to the side of the tank before diving away as it detonated behind him. The engine of the tank burst into flames and the transmission was totalled. He looked back as he heard hydraulics kick in and saw a small white flag pop up from the tank's turret. He faintly heard, the crew inside;

"Commander Pool, we're disabled, the Sniper got us."

"What?! How!? Why!? I told you not to go after him!"

"M-magnetic mine it seems…"

"JESUS FUCK!" the conversation echoed out.

Jacob snickered, then heard a firefight break out in the distance, back towards where the American tanks had been… he'd done his job, now to return to the middle of the map and take the church. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and pivoted on his heels as the Grant commander poked her head out of the tank, blowing her a loud kiss as he sprinted off. "It's been a pleasure!" he cockily jeered.

* * *

**Meanwhile…**

They were down a tank and the entirety of their supporting infantry… the damage of just _one _Canadian sniper.

"_If I had American technology, British officers and Canadian soldiers, I could rule the world" _mused Pekoe as she rebuffed Jess's anguish, loading another round into the gun. "For the record, that's not me saying that, that was Winston Churchill."

"Yeah, yeah… FIRE!" Jess barked back with the Sherman's gun barking alongside her as it slugged a round deep into one of the Canadian Rams, causing the white flag to pop up atop its turret. "We're still in this!"

"Affirmative!" exclaimed Alisa over the radio, who had taken her tank slightly off the road as they engaged the Canadian armor, firing a round that scrapped off against one of the Grizzly tanks. Further behind the burnt out Ram and active Grizzly was another Grizzly on approach.

Jess had to think quick; they wouldn't devote so few of their tanks unless it served a purpose… they wouldn't devote the command or flag tank unless they felt the fight was in the bag… two Grizzly tanks and the other Ram were already on the other side of the map, that meant six of the ten Canadian tanks were accounted for. The Cromwell, Skink, Sexton and Firefly were left unaccounted for. The Sexton was an artillery piece, that probably wouldn't be the command tank… damnit she wished she'd caught a glimpse of which tank Jenny had gotten into. It was either the Cromwell or Firefly, it had to be.

The crack of the Chaffee's gun broke Jess from her thought process, the round hitting the front Grizzly's turret… for a moment Jess wasn't sure if it was a kill or not, but the white flag that popped up above the tank confirmed it for her.

The Grizzly that had been catching up slowed down and began to reverse, keeping its frontal armor facing the American tanks. It seemed it didn't want to play any more. Jess wanted to keep the pressure on…

"Mclane, bring your Chaffee wide, head up the road towards the town, then bring your tank through the woods along the side of the Grizzly and put a round into the side of it, Alisa and I will keep it occupied." Jess ordered.

"Roger that commander!" Kate replied, with Jess covering her advance as the two moved forward, with Jess placing herself between the flimsier Chaffee as it made a break for the trees. So far it seemed to be working. The Canadian tank didn't seem to realize that the Chaffee wasn't making a break for the town, but swinging around to hit its flank… so when Jess saw a round punch straight through the Grizzly's rear from side to side before impacting a snowdrift on the other side of the tank with a plume of snow being cast into the air… she had to laugh aloud.

"YEAH! Suck it!" she quipped, the adrenaline flowing through her veins.

Then her radio crackled to life… it was Rosehip. "Uh… Commander, I have good news and bad news."

Jess's adrenaline immediately left her… "Hit me with that shit then…" she sighed.

"Good news first; we took the Canadian tanks out, both Grizzly tanks and their Ram…" she then trailed off…

"And the bad news?" Jess asked, bracing herself.

"We lost Mary's Sherman and the other Stuart."

Jess went white as a ghost, slumping against Audrey who tensed up, looking over her shoulder. "Wha-?"

"HOW?!" Jess cried.

"Muscles for brain…" Rosehip replied. That was all she needed say.

"Alright, alright… how has Canadian infantry presence been?" Jess asked.

"Minimal to say the least…" said Rosehip, "We've seen only a few at most."

"Shit… hold for a moment will you?" Jess mused, putting the current conversation on pause.

She reached over and flipped a few switches on her radio. "Charlie company, give me a sitrep."

"HOLY SHIT! Commander! Finally! They're fucking EVERYWHERE!" bellowed the infantry commander. This only confirmed Jess's fear. The Canadians had concentrated their infantry in the town. "We've taken heavy casualties and are engaged in street fighting. I guess if there's good news to be had, they've deployed their flag tank here."

"Their flag tank is in town?!" Jess exclaimed, that had to be a mistake, why would they deploy their lose condition somewhere so vulnerable.

"Yeah, but it's doing pretty good as an anti-infantry tank. They can just load up their quad with anti-personnel rounds and it's doing a pretty good job painting the town blue. We can hardly go out onto the streets without getting immediately painted." added the infantry commander.

"And the church? Where are you guys?"

"Uhh…" he muttered, "We're across the street from the church, the Canadians don't seem to be occupying it though, if we could just get across the stree-" there was the snap of a rifle and the infantry commander went quiet, in the distance she could hear another American infantryman yell; "SNIPER!"

Shit, she knew what that meant… the town needed their help fast. She switched back to Rosehip's channel and looped Naomi into the chat as well. "Alright, Naomi." Jess started "Bring your Sherman to the edge of the forest on the Canadian's side, get your tank hidden in the treeline, I want you on overwatch."

"Aye, aye." said the no-nonsense tanker.

"Rosehip, get to the edge of the woods along the road to the town, we'll make our way to the edge of our side of the woods and then we'll sprint into town at the same time." Jess ordered.

"Got it!" Rosehip chirped, "Getting into position."

By the time Jess's unit had reached the edge of the woods however, the situation in town had gone from worse to worst. There was no small arms fire coming from the town… "Anyone in the town, respond!" Jess barked into the radio… no reply. Shit… this may be a horrible idea, but if they could take out the Canadian flag tank, it might be worth the risk. If they could just flush it out… Naomi might be able to snipe it.

The radio crackled; "This is Rosehip, I am in position."

"Alright... Miho." Jess started, then remembered she couldn't understand english… "Err, Kay I'll need your services."

"Sure, but Miho's kinda _dead_ remember." Kay replied casually and calmly.

Jess went blank for a moment, then facepalmed. "Right." she'd totally forgotten Miho was the sniper's first KO. "Alright then… Yukari… or whoever is in charge over there right now." Jess started, looping Kay into the conversation to translate. "Stay in the forest, I don't want to risk you getting sniped by the Firefly. We're not sure where it, the Sexton or Cromwell is… so the M4A1, Chaffee and M4 will move into town to try and take out the Skink."

Kay went through the process of translating. "Alright, they'll hold back." Kay relayed.

"Rosehip, do you have any infantry left?" Jess asked, trying to get full inventory of what she had left.

"Yeah, our infantry was left mostly untouched." Rosehip replied.

"Good, just having some to protect us against anti-tank weapons will be a boon. Try to protect them as they cross into town." Jess said, disregarding what the Crusader was intended for.

"Uh… but that's not really this tank's role…" Rosehip offered. The Crusader was by no means an infantry support tank. It was armored cavalry, lightly armored for lightning fast strikes, if it stopped moving it would make an easy target.

"I know, but we _need_ those footmen." Jess ordered. "Make it happen."

With a sigh, Rosehip relented. "Alright, you're the commander."

"Alright... all units, move out!" Jess barked, the three remaining tanks of Alpha exiting the forest and Rosehip emerging from the other side. They would converge in the ruined town. Jess could faintly see Rosehip's Crusader all the way at the end of the road she was on, a shimmer in the distance.

This shimmering dot however was eclipsed by a fountain of blue paint that erupted behind it. "Err… Jess… I hate to tell you this… but we don't have infantry anymore… the Sexton just nuked them."

Jess's eye went wide, they were waiting for them!

The ring of a 17-pounder cracked through the tundran air and a massive round tore through the Chaffee, sending it rolling off the side of the road into a ditch. "SHIT!" she could hear Mclane exclaim. The Firefly had claimed a prize.

Jess snapped her head towards the right, scanning for where the shot came from, but all she saw was snow. Damn the Canadians and their white tanks, she didn't have time to make out minute details at this speed and range.

Another shot rang out from the 17-pounder, the shot ringing off the M4A1's turret, making Alisa shrilly scream as she damn near had a heart attack. "We're fine?! We're fine!" she exclaimed, though the shot had taken a decent chunk of metal off the edge of the turret.

Thankfully, the two tanks entered the town before the Firefly could get off another shot. Rosehip however, was way ahead of them. "Never fear, Rosehip is here!" she chirped, barreling towards them and… drifting her tank. Jess could hardly believe it, but then again if the ground was really icy, she might have been able to pull it off.

The Crusader banked hard, getting ready to rip down the road leading down the right of the intersection - Rosehip's left - and into the middle of the town. "Okay, maybe fear!" she exclaimed as a flurry of 20mm rounds tore up her lightly armored Crusader, with the rear catching flame as the white flag popped up above her tank. Jess herself even tensed up, no wonder the infantry had been horrified by that thing. It was firing live ammo now, but if each of those gun barrels fired 650rpm and there were four, that would mean technically, you would have about forty-five sim rounds flying at your face, _per-second,_ and that was a little terrifying.

Still, those 20mm rounds would do little against the Sherman's thicker armor. This was proven correct as Jess's tank rounded the corner and the 20mm rounds bounced harmlessly off her tank's frontal armor. Jess did however duck back inside, because if the thought of forty-five harmless-ish rounds flying at her per second scared her, than live, armor piercing rounds at the same rate made her a little light-headed. Audrey was in the process of lining up the shot when the Canadian infantry decided to emerge from the houses around town.

"Ambush!" Alisa exclaimed, the bow gun of her tank opening fire with sim rounds, taking out a pair of Canadian riflemen who foolishly emerged out of one of the houses just off the road from her. "AH!" she screamed, and Jess heard it too, the sound of a rocket hitting it's mark. Alisa's tank's engine burst into flame as a PIAT struck the back of her M4A1.

"Jess, you're the last hope now!" Alisa whined.

Jess could really only pray now. "FIRE!" she screamed, the round screaming from her tank's gun… only to bounce off the Skink's frontal armor at an awkward angle. "FUCK!"

No kill… still, it seemed all wasn't lost. They'd scared the crap out of the Skink it seemed as it began to reverse, lining itself up with a potential avenue of escape. The AA tank then banked hard to the left, heading west.

"After that Skink!" Jess exclaimed. She heard Kay giggle over the radio, "What?"

"Nothing, I just think that's funny." Kay remarked, getting Jess to roll her eyes and smirk back.

By this point the Canadian infantry were out in force, a PIAT narrowly missed Jess's tank. If it hit… that would have been it. Her Sherman banked down the same road as the Skink, following them to the edge of town. They'd still yet to encounter the Canadian's Cromwell, and that worried Jess. Once at the edge of town, exposed to the western flank of the map, Jess's felt a thud and explosion ripple through her tank… she'd thought she'd found it, but no… even worse.

Her tank skidded into a ditch at the edge of town, struck in the back by a PIAT. Jess burst out of her hatch. "DAMMIT!" she screamed into the sky, looking down from the sky at the Skink which began to slow down, putting along the icy road. Had they lost… There were no other tanks operational except the Panzer IV… and… wait…

Jess's eyes darted to the treeline and just as she met the trees, the crack of a 76mm gun broke the silence that had overcome the Canadian tundra. The round whizzed through the air and impacted the rear of the Skink. With a detonation and totalling of the house on the other side of the road, a white flag popped up above the Skink's turret.

"YEEEEESSS!" Jess cheered.

Her radio crackled to life. "Canadian flag tank neutralized. American team is victorious." announced the game's referee.

Jess was about ready to break down… her first actual game, a game she had every right to believe she was out gunned, out performed and out played… she'd won. She chuckled lightly to herself, the thrill of victory pulsed through her and for a moment she had to shut her eyes to recollect herself. She breathed deeply. In that moment her opinions switched. She totally didn't deserve this victory… she now felt like it had just fallen into her lap. She'd gotten lucky.

"Nicely done." said Kay from the front. "For your first real match… I'm impressed. It wasn't a sweeping victory but… damn fine."

Jess blushed, receiving praise, any praise… well, it was validating. It had been a good match. Despite how stressed she had felt during it at some points, when her team botched orders, when she panicked when the sniper was shooting at them… she had enjoyed it. This had been a fun game.

And she wasn't sure if that was a good feeling to have…

* * *

**Later that evening…**

"Both teams, salute!" barked the Referee.

Both teams of tankers and infantry saluted. "Well played!" each side proclaimed.

After a moment of standing like this, both teams relaxed. The ref then took his leave and Jess had a nagging question on her mind. "Err… Captain Snow." she started, addressing the pink haired Canadian.

"Please, just Jenny." she said warmly.

"Err… right… well, I was wondering, we never ran into your Cromwell… where was it?" Jess asked.

"Oh… that…" Jenny started, raising a hand to her mouth and averting her gaze. "Well… we wanted to get the town before you right? I _was _going to escort the Skink… buuuut… uhh…" she paused, and her eyes darted up and towards the road that lead back towards Cambridge Bay. Jess looked over her shoulder to see the Cromwell atop a massive flatbed truck, frozen in a block of ice. "It kinda fell through the ice… N-no one was hurt though."

That feeling of an undeserved victory returned and Jess sagged her shoulders. "Ugh… we'd totally have lost if you didn't lose your Cromwell accidentally."

Jenny stepped forward and planted a hand on Jess's shoulder. "Don't look at it that way, in the end, your placement of the 76er was what sniped our flag tank. We were so interested in taking the town that we didn't think about securing the woods. When we had our guns facing the roads, perhaps we should have had them scanning the treeline. You played well today Jessie and I'd be glad to join any international team with you as the commander." Jenny let her hand slide off Jess's shoulder. "I've had a talk with my girls, they want to apologize for knee jerking when someone provoked them. It was unprofessional of them."

Jess shook her head, "No… it was our fault for insulting you first."

Jenny chuckled, looking over at her girls and the boys that served at her side, then looking back towards the American lines. "C'mon." she beckoned, getting Jess to follow her to the edge of the course, to a small hill that overlooked the collection of American and Canadian boys and girls.

"Hey check it out!" exclaimed one of the American boys, Jess jerked her head to look towards the boy, pointing towards the sky and following his gaze.

"Woah…" Jess mused, looking up to see a sight she'd only seen in movies and pictures on the internet.

Flickers of blue and green danced across the sky, flashes of purple and cyan also licked the horizon as the northern lights began to make their presence known.

"That's… beautiful…" Jess muttered.

"It's quite a sight, isn't it…" Jenny added, getting Jess to raise a brow. "I'm from Vancouver. No way you're seeing something like this in the big city."

"Ah… I'm from Bellingham… Washington." Jess replied, turning her attention back to the sky.

Jenny chuckled, "I've been to Seattle a few times before… there's not a huge difference between it and Vancouver. They're quite similar." she said, taking in a huge breath, sighing. "Which is a nice segway…" she added, getting Jess to tear her gaze from the sky, looking up at Jenny who made her way to the top of the hill. At the bottom of the hill, the rest of the Americans and Canadians all seemed equally awestruck as she had been.

"Americans. Fellow Canadians." Jenny called out from the hilltop, getting their attentions. "I'd like to honor the American team with a well deserved congratulations. As well, I'd like to apologize for our behavior over the past week." she proclaimed.

Typical Canadian, apologizing for something that they had no fault in. Jess ran up next to Jenny. "No, no, no. We wouldn't have been able to push ourselves to achieve this victory without the Canadians giving us something to aspire to. And I'd like to extend _our _apology for provoking them when they showed up!" she interjected.

Jenny snirked, motioning to Jess. "And she proves my point." which caused Jess to tense up. "We're not so different are we?" she started to relax a bit again… "We're both capable of being righteous, bigoted _assholes, _yet on the same note, we're both willing to stand up here proclaiming guilt just to protect one another. But you're American. I'm Canadian. So _what_? We're neighbors, we've had each others backs throughout history… we both understand and are capable of showing respect to one another while utterly despising one another… we're sibling rivals. Always have been. Forget the South vs. North rivalry shit that they spout, that wasn't a _friendly_ rivalry, that was… something _else. _But this… yeah… I'd call this friendly. We're brothers and sisters. We bicker and fight, but when push comes to shove, we're both jumping into the trenches to defend one another."

Jess couldn't help but smile… the damn Canuck was right. Fucking Canadians… and their positivity. Jess chuckled. "Y'know, I think I know a song for this."

Jenny looked towards her, "Oh?" she mused.

"Yeah…" Jess snapped her fingers, "It was played at the Winter 2010 Olympics actually."

Jenny snapped her fingers back. "Oh shit I remember." she cleared her throat.

"_There comes a moment, when my heart must stand alone… on this lonely path I've chosen, like a house that's not a home. Sometimes when I feel I've had enough and I feel like giving up. You willed me to be all I can be… now nothing can stop me." _Jenny started, and while Jess didn't know the rest of the words, she knew the chorus.

"_I believe in the power that comes… from a world brought together as one… I believe together we'll fly, I believe in the power of you and I. I believe the time is right now, stand tall and make the world proud. I believe together we'll fly, I believe in the power of you and I."_

A few of the others had joined and some of the older players who may have not known the lyrics seemed to get a little nostalgic… 2010… back when the world didn't seem as nearly as much of a shitshow as it was now. When the world seemed simpler. Maybe from youth, maybe because it was _actually _better than the world in its current state… Jess couldn't come to that conclusion.

And so the Americans and Canadians stood there in the snow, watching the northern lights flicker away in the sky… remembering that they really weren't all that different. But this was apples to apples compared to what was to come.

"So…" Jenny began. "Seen Endgame yet?"

Jess snirked, "Well get a fuckton of popcorn for it."

Jenny burst out laughing. "Looking forward to it."

* * *

**For the record, I was up till 7 in the morning writing this, so pardon the cheesy end- actually no, I'll stand by the cheese. **

**CHEESE ME…**

**(I regret nothing...)**


	7. East vs West

**June 4th, 2019 - Somewhere off the coast of Greenland**

It was snowing lightly and the winds were relatively calm, at least when compared to how they usually were on deck. She should have been happy, maybe relieved at least, but Kay was having trouble wrapping her head around the prior match.

"Something on your mind Kay?" Alisa asked, taking a seat next to the blonde as the two watched the American and Canadian students running here and there from atop one of the school's perimeter watch towers.

The match the other day had revealed a lot to Kay. She should have clued in from the beginning, she was sure many of the others did, but she had to admit, she could be rather dense at times. And Jessica… Kay smirked, for one so new to Sensho-do, she took to it with remarkable speed, maybe there _was _something special about her? At least… in Kay's mind there had to be in order to explain how she picked things up so quickly. There was another thought on Kay's mind however… was this healthy? The way they treated the sport and how their players were drilled like soldiers?

"Earth to Kay." Alisa repeated, tapping Kay on the shoulder.

Key flinched, "Huh? Oh- uh… right… just thinking about the other night, the last match." she mused, the two speaking in Japanese for the time being.

Alisa hummed back, "Hmm…" but didn't say anything, staring out at the school yard. They'd both gotten used to the cold by now and the ship was bound south again, so hopefully they'd be back in warmer waters soon. Then finally. "What about it?"

There was another long silence. Kay shut her eyes and pressed her head against the railing, it wasn't so cold anymore that she'd stick to it. "It was a friendly match… that is to say there were no stakes… but the way those girls treated it…"

"It was like actual war…" Alisa murmured back.

Kay nodded slowly. "Don't get me wrong, it was one of the most exhilarating matches I've had to date… but it just… _wasn't_, y'know? It wasn't tankery. It did not capture the spirit of the sport."

Alisa shrugged, Kay knew that Alisa was a bit more try hard than she was, so to her, she probably didn't see much of a problem with it. Then as if to confirm her inner monologue; "Well, if it quacks like a duck… or in this case, sounds like a tank…" she mused. Though Kay had to disagree with that statement. Even if it looked like sensho-do and played like sensho-do… it wasn't sensho-do. Not quite. She'd taken a bit of quiet time the other night to look through the western league rulebook, probably the heaviest reading she'd done since coming abroad. The amount of changes and variances that were in their rulebook… it made the sport seem less of a game, like more a battle, more war. She couldn't help but find this view point almost contradictory to all the safety precautions put in place by major leagues.

"The body may be the same, but the spirit has been torn from it." Kay mused, catching Alisa a little off guard.

"Wow, thanks Darjeeling." Alisa commented and Kay realized what she said mirrored Darjeeling's normally poetic form of speech.

Kay rolled her eyes. "To be fair, the way the match ended, with both teams making up with one another. It was nice. The game may have been treated rather… aggressively… but oddly enough, the end result was the opposite of a war, they seemed to gain much respect for one another."

"A bloodless war is the best kind of war." commented someone from behind. Kay looked over to see Darjeeling standing behind the two Saunders girls.

"Well, speak of the crumpet." Alisa remarked.

"Pardon me, but Miho asked me to come find you two. We're having a meeting in the lounge." said the Gloriana girl.

Kay raised a brow, but didn't argue, grabbing the railing and hoisting herself to her feet. "Must be important if she's sending you out." Kay mused, sinking her hands into her jacket pockets as she pivoted on her heels to face Darjeeling.

"Rather important, indeed." Darjeeling replied, the two of them waiting for Alisa to get herself ready as well.

Kay pursed her lips as she followed Darjeeling down the watchtower and across the school yard. She looked around, this _place _wasn't even really a school… it was some amalgamation of the former and a military base. From her point of view, this was one of they key factors in separating Sensho-do in in the east and Sensho-do in the west. They tried to train the players like soldiers… sure they gave them some form of traditional schooling, _western _schooling that is. But this wasn't the kind of environment she had expected when she'd come over from Japan. She's expected something more like Saunders - well, maybe not entirely like Saunders, she knew that the west's school system was a bit different than Japan's, but she had at least expected a normal school. A normal school, with class rooms, dormitories and all the appropriate facilities. This _wasn't_. To see the students here get set up in ramshackle barracks like it was boot camp, that was jarring to Kay. To see them barked at and standing at attention when their instructors passed…

Kay furrowed her brow. Really, it was all just sinking in. "This school is messed up…" she muttered quietly.

"Hmm, you say something Kay?" Alisa asked, catching up to her.

Kay flashed Alisa a quick cursory glance, then turned her gaze back forward, though slightly pulled to the ground. "No… no nothing…" she said. Alisa didn't argue.

"Alright…" the other Saunders girl mused, "If… if you say so."

Kay winced as she heard a few gunshots echo out from the firing range. She joylessly smirked and shook her head. What kind of school had a gun range? She understood why the place had a motor pool, that's where tanks lived, but a gun range? Why? Just because the west tagged on a bunch of pointless rules to Sensho-do?

But, this was just how the west did it. Right? Cultural differences. Not everyone is going to do things the same way she would. Best she get over that now. But she couldn't. For everything that her school mirrored from America, there would always be internal differences. They were not the same. She'd struggle to grasp this, but that had to wait as the three of them entered the main academic building in the middle of the _school base_ and navigated the halls to find the correct room.

Even upon entering the structure, the differences between inside and outside were night and day. Lockers lined the halls, motivational posters and the likes were pinned up on the walls and notices were posted on various boards around the building. With how few windows there were within the halls, Kay could almost fool herself into thinking she was at a normal school. But she knew better.

"Ah, here we are at last." Darjeeling said, pressing the door open and entering with the two Saunders girls.

Miho was already waiting for them. Ooarai's Hippo team was also present, as was most of Angler and the St. Gloriana girls, with Naomi sitting on one of the sofas chewing gum as per usual. Though there were a couple individuals missing… for starters, Kay found it odd that Anzu and the Ooarai student council weren't present for this supposedly important meeting. Rosehip and Yukari were also missing, another oddity.

Miho sat on the sofa opposite of Naomi, with Hana and Saori on either side of her, seemingly comforting her. "Is… something the matter?" Kay asked. Miho had this unmistakable look of worry about her and her hands were clasped on her lap. Something was definitely wrong.

"We're waiting on Yukari, Rosehip went looking for her not long after Darjeeling went to find you two..." said Pekoe from next to Naomi. So they'd probably be back shortly. The girls gave it another ten minutes, Kay started to wonder if Rosehip had gotten lost or something when the two of them entered the room with a slightly frazzled looking Yukari, Rosehip looking smug as ever.

"Where were you?" Mako asked from underneath the coffee table between the three lounge sofas, Kay jumped a little, she hadn't even noticed Mako under the table.

"Why are you-" Rosehip started.

"Darker under here." she replied, sleepily. Yeah, that checked out. "But you didn't answer my question."

Kay moved to take a seat on the unoccupied sofa, Alisa taking a spot next to her. Kay looked towards the door to see Rosehip give a glance back at Yukari, who gave her a cringy pleading look. "Err, I just found her around the gun range was all, you know how Yukari can be… right?" she offered half-assedly, giving a toothy grin that just said; _I'm totally not lying but I totally am._

Kay rolled her eyes, whatever, they could keep their secrets. She smirked and looked across the table at Miho. "So… Miho… you asked us here for a reason." Initially there was no response from the Ooarai Commander…

Hana put a hand on Miho's shoulder. "Miho…" she said softly, giving her a gentle shake.

"Huh? Oh! R-right…" she started, inhaling before finally looking up to address those gathered. "A significant portion of the Ooarai team has returned to Japan to address some internal issues. Rabbit team, have returned due to… embarrassing reasons that I don't know if I should really get into." Miho explained, with Mako popping back out from under the coffee table.

"Parental demands." she stated, then slunk back under the table like a bridge troll.

"Yyyeah… thanks Mako…" Miho mused, blunt as always that one. "As for the student council, they've been forced to return to sort out their graduation plans. I… I don't know if they'll even return. If we're stuck here over the summer, then chances are they won't be coming back…" Miho started, hanging her head sadly.

Kay shut her eyes and crossed her arms, sinking back into the couch. They were down quite a few trainers now. "Who's staying?" she asked.

"Well… Duck team will be staying, I already got confirmation from them. Erwin, will your team be staying?" Miho asked, pausing to look over at Hippo team's commander, who was standing nearby with her arms crossed.

She nodded, "We'll see this campaign through to the end!" Erwin proudly proclaimed.

"Good… then… I'll speak to the other teams individually…" Miho concluded.

"St. Gloriana will also not abandon a job till we've seen it done right." said Darjeeling. "We shall continue to support in whatever way we can."

"Saunders is also going to see this through, so long as our headmaster doesn't pull some crap and drag us back to Japan, we're staying." Kay added. She wasn't about to leave while there was so much left to teach the western girls… in particular Jessica. If she could just get through to _her _then perhaps the rest of the western girls could be shown the light. If she could change how tankery was perceived, perhaps she could make it seem more like a game again and less warlike. Domino effect.

On that note… she had to know. "Hey, I need to run something by you all since you're here." she started, making sure she had the attention of everyone - or at least most of them. "Since getting here, have you girls noticed how the Americans and Canadians have been treating Sensho-do?" she asked, not pointing fingers at any one point in particular, to see if their reactions varied without influence.

"They're… a little more hardcore than I would have imagined." Hana started, "All that shouting and yelling from their teachers… it's like they joined the army or something."

Darjeeling nodded, "Indeed, it's quite invigorating, different of course, but not all will embrace our way of doing it."

"I don't know about that ma'am." Rosehip interjected. "It's interesting seeing another way of doing it, but how they're conducting this version of Sensho-do… it's like…" she trailed off.

"Like it isn't Sensho-do." finished Miho, causing everyone else to look to her. "If it sounds like a tank and looks like a tank, does not make it Sensho-do. It must feel like Sensho-do… and this… this feels like war." she lifted her head back up. "It's been an experience, of course, interesting… but… I mean." she paused for a moment, then sighed. "Example; I enjoyed all the Sensho-do matches I've been in since coming to Ooarai… I never had a problem with the rules, only how we conducted play. Personal safety is and always will be my primary concern. However, while I might have enjoyed the match we had the other day, I wouldn't know, I was unconscious before I even got to do anything. The western rules _encourage _the kind of play that I'm not so keen on."

Kay nodded slowly, "That's why we can't leave." she stated. "We need to show them what true Sensho-do looks like."

"The question is; will they listen?" asked Darjeeling motioned. "Remember what Instructor Pool told us?"

The room echoed with hums of thought. "We'll just have to try." Kay affirmed. "Right Miho?"

Miho buried her face in her hands and exhaled sharply, but she bobbed up and down, nodding. She slid her hands down her face and rested them atop her lap. "Yeah. We need to show them this is a sport. Not war."

They were in agreement. "Alright, then let's see if we can't figure out how to go about this."

* * *

**Meanwhile, just outside…**

Jacob fired off the last round in his Ross Rifle, clearing the breech and making sure the rifle was completely empty before slinging it over his shoulder. That had been fun, even if she didn't speak much english, that short haired Japanese girl he'd been shooting with had something of an endearing fascination with military equipment. He was pretty sure she was spouting something about tanks, her english was lacking and he didn't know any Japanese. From what little she did know, she'd said that the way they conducted _Sensho-do _which as far as Jacob could tell was Japanese for tankery, was interesting. She seemed eager to learn more about the equipment they used, though her knowledge of tanks already seemed extensive.

Jacob chuckled quietly to himself. He'd put in enough range time, any more and he'd start getting allowance funds siphoned for the ammo he was using. That money was put to better use, like now, he was hungry… maybe mexican, he thought. He could go for some tacos. He pivoted on his heels to turn towards the range exit, only see flinch and jump nearly a meter back when he saw his elder sister standing there, propping herself up with a hand against the fence, holding a few paper bags in her free hand.

"You seem in a good mood, despite the weather." Jenny commented, pushing off the fence and beckoning for her brother to come.

Jogging after her, he nodded. "Yeah, had a run in with one of the Japanese girls that was sent over. She was pretty cool, knew a crap-ton about tanks and seemed very interested in military hardware. Wasn't the easiest of conversations, but I think it went rather well." he explained. True, he hadn't been in the best of moods since arriving here. He almost felt like a footnote when it came to tankery, like; why was he here when the tankers were exclusively girls? Of course, they needed him for this _one particular game mode _where there were infantry. It had been fun of course, he'd not forgotten the thrill he'd gotten when he was stalking the American tank column the other day.

The two of them mulled around the school grounds for a while, conversing. The grounds were relatively quiet at the moment, classes had been out for a while now. "Oh, right." Jenny mused, picking out one of the paper bags and peeking inside then holding the it out for him. "For. _You_!" she sang.

"Huh?" Jacob took the bag from his sister and peeked inside, quesadillas and _mexifries,_ at least that's what he thought they were. "Sweet! Thanks! Did they open a Taco-Time here?" he asked, digging out one of the quesadillas and unwrapping it before digging in as the two of them reached the motor pool.

"Nah, Karl's has pretty much everything you could ever want though; Mexican, Italian, Greek, Chinese, Korean. No Japanese though…" Jenny replied, leading her brother to where she kept her Cromwell, as they approached Jacob could see the bay door was open and Jenny's crew were busy at work performing maintenance on the AFV. It had a few chunks of ice stuck to it still, but otherwise it had been entirely chiseled out of the block it had been stuck in the last day and a half.

"So is this what you've been doing all day?" Jacob asked, cleaning off his quesadilla.

"First off, holy crap, you freaking inhaled that. Did you even taste it? And yes… yes this is what we've been doing all day." she stated, starting off feigning surprise, but ended with a matter-of-fact tone that conveyed some degree of exhaustion. "I _did _order the tanks across the pond after all… and it _was _mine that took a dunk." as the two approached the garage, Jenny pinched her index and thumb together, holding them to her mouth and letting forth a sharp whistle.

"Ah! Yes!" Jacob could hear his sister's driver exclaim, "You remembered th' sauce, eh?!" shouted Sam Wright, one of the players from the east coast who sported the stereotypical Canadian accent.

"Yeah!" Jenny shot back, picking her pace up slightly as she power walked up the incline to the garage with Jacob trailing her. She set the bags down atop the Cromwell's hull. "Alright… Sam, you wanted a breakfast sandwich with sausage…" she listed off, handing one of the bags towards her driver.

"Ah thank ya'!" Sam chirped, leaning over from her spot atop the hull where she was trying to thaw off a piece of ice stuck to the gun.

"Tess, I know you wanted poutine, but Karl didn't even know what it was. I was shocked, given how extensive the choice is there." Jenny added, handing the next bag up towards the top of the turret where her loader sat. "So I just got you some fries, some gravy and picked up cheese curds from the store."

"Ack… alright. Thanks. Typical America… don't know real poutine from…" the freckled brunette began, trailing off into one of her personal tangents again as she muttered to herself about why Canada was better than America in every way… though Jacob didn't agree with that sentiment personally. His sister would probably disagree with _him _on this personal note, no, she _would_, but he wished - once older - that he could own a historical gun collection and actually get to fire them in his lifetime… something that was _very _difficult to do in Canada. He might as well have wanted to go to the moon.

"And… uh… Laura! Get out here!" Jenny bellowed and swiping to the side for Tess to slide over and let Laura, her gunner, out of the turret.

"Eh?" muttered the black haired Korean Canadian that popped out of the turret, her hair done up in a tight ponytail.

"Your BBQ Pork." Jenny said, holding out the bag for her gunner.

"Ah! Yes! Our stomachs have been saved again by the heroes at Meal Team Six." Laura remarked, leaning down from the turret to take her food.

The majority of the girls chuckles half-heartedly. Puns. Tess however shook her head and scoffed slightly.

"Woo, dad jokes." Laura chirped, sinking back into the Cromwell's turret.

"So how's it coming in there Laura?" Jenny asked, climbing up onto the hull of the tank, with Jacob pacing around to the rear of the tank and climbing up onto the back.

"Well, all internal systems are thawed out, the gun barrel however is going to need more time, we don't want to be firing off any shells until we get the ice out of there… unless we want to pop the turret like a firecracker." Laura replied, ending her statement with a tone of joyous anticipation.

"Yeah… how about we not do that." Jenny scoffed, shaking her head. "Alright, so we'll thaw out the barrel, finish chipping the ice from the transmission and drive wheels… what about the engine?" she continued. Much of this was lost on Jacob. He thought tanks were cool, but he was just a grunt… sort of. He liked guns more than tanks.

"Th' engine there'll need a bit of mootivation, but the good news is, it don't need to be replaced." answered Sam. "We'll get it up and movin' aboot by tomorrow, eh."

Jacob lifted a hand to his mouth and pinched his lips together with his index and middle knuckles, trying to keep himself from snickering.

"Right. See to it." Jenny replied, peering into the turret of the Cromwell, her black beret threatening to fall off.

Jacob went about finishing his mexifries, which really were just potato gems… tater-tots… whatever you wanted to call them, drenched in sour cream and green onion. His mind began wandering at this point, much - if not all - of what was being addressed by the tank girls going right over his head. He wondered if he should learn Japanese, would make talking to that girl easier… uuughh, but Japanese was such a hard language to learn. Then again, english was also pretty tough for someone who didn't speak it natively. Hell, it didn't even make complete sense to someone who _did _speak it natively from time to time, it was like _damn english, why you gotta be like this_… or something.

He stuffed his wrappers and empty cardboard fry boat back into the paper bag it had all come in, scrunching it up and tossing it at a nearby wastebasket in the corner of the garage. _Cobey_. He sunk it, nothing but bin.

He then slid off the back of the tank. "Hey I'm going to go… uh… look around for someone. I need to ask them something." he said to his sister, giving her a slight two-fingered casual salute as he began to leave the garage. "Thanks for the food too!"

Jenny looked over her shoulder, still leaning forward against the turret. She nodded. "No problem, oh and try not to scare the Japanese girls off, we need them around still, alright?" she replied, quipping at him towards the end, causing him to tense up. How the hell…?

"Hey! I'll worry about my life, you worry about your encroaching adulthood!" he shot back pivoting on his heels to shout back at her.

He could hear his sister emitting a long, pitiful moaning whine. "Whyyyyy? Why would you bring that uuuuppp! I don't wanna be twenty!" she whined.

"Love _you_." he jeered back playfully, only to faintly hear her groan out a pathetic and totally not cursing;

"_Fuuuuuuggg…"_

Eh, if she was going to get under his skin, he could get under hers. It was all in the sibling rule book. He shook his head. First things first, he needed to find one of the Japanese english speakers, he could at least begin to try and get an understanding of the language… after that, well, he'd see just how he felt afterwards.

* * *

**Earlier that same day: Hamburg, Germany**

Erika stood in the garage holding the tank she was being assigned. She stood, arms folded behind her back at the front of a Tiger II. It was… a beautiful machine. Her loader, Henrietta, seemed to think so too.

"Ahhh, what a beautiful machine!" she beamed, tossing herself across it's sloped frontal armor. "I feel blessed!"

Erika couldn't help but crack a smirk at her loader's reaction, but Erika just knew how much of a nightmare maintaining this beast was going to be. It could have been worse, they could have _actually _had Nazi Germany's supply lines and just _not _be able to maintain it. Actually, she wasn't sure what was worse…

Her neat blonde hair was tied up into a mid-length ponytail and she had an officer's cap atop her head rounding off her uniform. A full black jacket with silver pins and zippers with a complimenting skirt with shiny leather boots and high black stockings. Looking in a mirror when she'd first donned it, she wasn't sure if they were going for authenticity or a mockery. Perhaps an authentic mockery. She couldn't say it looked _good _persay, but it wasn't terrible… she knew _why _that was how she felt, but couldn't bring herself to say it. That didn't stop her driver Allia from seeing the cliff and driving _straight _off it. "Y'know, say what you will about Nazis, and I know you can say a lot about them, but they knew how to dress." the brown haired Austrian looked towards Erika and eyed her over. "But I can't help but feel they're incomplete without the red armbands. They're not the same without the swa-"

"Allow me to stop you right there." Interjected Erika. How she ended up with this knock-off hittlette on her team was beyond her.

"But I wanted a swastika!" Allia exclaimed. "But _noooo_, Nazis are _baaaad peeeople…_"

Erika grit her teeth, inhaling sharply through her nose, there were enough issues surrounding the reactivation of Germany's tankery division, the last thing it needed was to bring Nazis into the mix. The more irritating part of it was that Erika had no idea if Allia was being serious or just doing it to get under peoples skin. "Mika…" Erika started, signaling her gunner Mikaela.

She didn't even need to look over, the sound of her gunner cracking her knuckles was all the confirmation she needed.

"Nein!" Allia screamed shrilly, starting to back away from the two Bavarian girls. Mika was noticeably larger than anyone on Erika's team and from what Erika could tell from rumors she'd heard, had a bit of a mean streak. But at least she knew who the leader was and seemed loyal towards their command structure.

"Hen' please stop fondling the tank." Erika said, leaving Allia to be intimidated by Mika.

"J-jawohl!" Henrietta exclaimed, bolting off the tank and standing straight and patting out her skirt. Erika stopped in front of her, pursing her lips and hoisting her hands up to adjust Henrietta's lopsided garrison cap.

"I want the four of you at your best." Erika began, waving a hand towards the Tiger and starting to pace. The implication was there. Henrietta stood at near attention at the front of the heavy tank, while Mikaela virtually snatched Allia up by the scruff and deposited her next to Henrietta, much to her discomfort, while she took up a spot opposite of the smaller Austrian.

As Erika paced she stopped in front of each of her crew members. "That means control your enthusiasm." she said, stopping in front of Henrietta, getting a rapid set of nods from her before continuing. "Refrain from spouting Nazisms." she jabbed a finger at Allia who shifted her eyes to avoid looking at Erika. "And refrain from strangling our instructor." she finished, standing before Mikaela.

"It is as you order." stated the taller girl.

"Good…" Erika mused, then hearing the garage door open, tensed up. She looked over her shoulder, expecting their instructor, but it wasn't so. A balding man had entered the room, holding a binder under his arm.

"Commander, how has the transition been?" asked the official. Erika turned about and stood at attention.

"Fine sir." Erika stated, putting on a stone cold emotionless expression.

"Is that so. I hope the protesters didn't cause any harm." continued the official.

"No sir, nothing we couldn't handle." she replied. Germany was… divided to say the least about the renewal of the tankery program. As with tradition, they used World War Two tanks and equipment by default with a bit of nineties equipment on the side. But as far as the public was concerned, they mostly saw equipment, gear and garb of a part of their history that they were rather… distraught by. On the way here, on the bus that had taken those girls who had signed up for - or were pressured into - tankery, Erika had seen some _stuff_. There had been protesters outside the compound where the girls and tanks were currently stationed. They were protesting against what they perceived as glorification of a dark part of Germany's history. Erika understood their concerns and to a certain extent, they were completely valid. But on the other hand, she also knew that, _no,_ tankery was _not _a glorification of the Third Reich. At least, that's not what it was supposed to be about. Then again, it probably _really _didn't help that there were some pretty big names among the tankers here. Some with ties to families of the day. Combine that with the use of Panzers, Tigers, Panthers and the likes with the uniforms the girls were issued and it could start to become suspect as to what the true purpose of this program was.

"Good, as the overall commander of Germany's tankery division, your instructors requested to meet with you first." said the official.

"Jawohl. If I may ask sir, how much longer are we to be stationed here?" Erika asked. They'd been sitting here for a couple days. She'd heard that they'd reactivated one of Germany's school ships, the only surviving one which up until about a week ago had been kept in immaculate condition as a museum in this very port. However, it had been sent out to sea for trials before she arrived.

"The FGS School Ship Rommel will be returning to port alongside America's USS School Ship Eisenhower in the next few days. Whereupon we will be having a… unique practice match." replied the official. Erika cringed slightly. The ship's name… another name invoking the Third Reich… and they wondered why people were unhappy. Though she liked to think there were some among the Third Reich who were less blatantly _evil_, even when it came to the legendary Desert Fox, she'd heard disturbing rumors… she refused to believe them. That was one of the few spots where she'd defend a Nazi. She was not _nearly_ as gungho about them as Allia.

There was then a light cough from behind the official. The man looked over his shoulder as a very bright blonde, almost white, haired girl with piercing blue eyes stepped into the garage.

"Ah, I'll leave you two to introduce." said the official, taking his leave as the blonde approached Erika. She wore a similar uniform to what the other girls were wearing, albeit without a jacket and more of a button down blouse. She looked awful young to be their instructor, perhaps around the same age as Erika herself. She straightened her side cap as she came to a stop before the German girl.

Erika extended her hand. "I take it you are to be our instructor."

The girl nodded. "Ja, my name is Erika Itsumi, I'm… well…" a smile started to creep up across her lips. "I'm looking forward to working with you." she finished, looking past the German girls at the Tiger II with a look of anticipation.

Erika - the German one - clenched her jaw as the _other _Erika took her hand a shook. This was going to be a mess. "A pleasure. Now to further add to this soon-to-be-mess… buuut my name is also Erika."

The Japanese Erika too clenched her jaw, "Great…" this is going to be fun. She replied. "Guess we'll have to come up with nicknames…" she mused.

German Erika sunk her hands into her pockets… "No… no it's fine. I'll use my surname." she replied.

"Really, you'll use your surname? Are you sure that's a wise idea?" asked Henrietta from behind her. German Erika looked over her shoulder and nodded.

"If it makes it easier to for us to communicate, then yes. Just… y'know… don't go blurting it out in public alright?" with that, she looked back towards the Japanese Erika. "Erika Rommel." she said, raising a hand to scratch the back of her neck, cringing slightly.

Itsumi went wide eyed. "W- no way, seriously?!" she exclaimed, her stern demeanor evaporating.

Rommel was caught off guard and jumped slightly. "Y-yeah…" she hadn't expected this reaction. "My great grandfather was uh… well…" she began to falter. She had a weird mixture of pride and shame regarding this matter.

"He was _the _Desert Fox!" Itsumi cheered. "Oh that's so cool!"

"Y-yeah… but like I said, don't go shouting it in public, others might not be quite as thrilled as you." Rommel interjected, trying to wave Itsumi down.

Her face went a little red, and she quickly regained her composure, clearing her throat and returning to her prior disposition at the snap of a finger. "Right. Of course." she stated, her eyes shifting to the side to avoid eye contact. Her face was still slightly red…

Rommel peered behind Itsumi, "So… is it just you?"

Itsumi's eyes darted towards the floor. "Well… I was supposed to be joined by my former commander, Maho Nishizumi… but… she's preparing to graduate to university once the summer break ends. So… I don't know. I might be the only one that came." she replied.

Rommel pursed her lips for a moment before blowing a long gust of air out her nose. "Then we've got our work cut out for us." she stated, waiting for Itsumi to return her gaze towards her. "So, let's get to it."

Itsumi forced a slight smile. "Alright. Let's do this."

* * *

**I'm playing with an idea of who to ship, it would work pretty well I think and actually serve a purpose. **

**Also, while I don't want to be **_**that **_**kind of person, I'll just seldom indulge;**

**If you enjoyed the fic, you'd be doing me a tremendous morale boost to fave and follow the story, you don't even need to review. However, I would like to hear some opinions as you can't improve without feedback. Reviews, both negative and positive are appreciated. (I'm also begrudgingly aware that I've probably let a few typos and word-slipups slide through the cracks and whenever I find one I'm just like **_**oh shit how many people did a doubletake here?**_**)**

**Till next upload!**


	8. EZ Ain't It

**June 5th, 2019 - Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean, the USS Eisenhower**

* * *

"B-Five…" Jess mumbled half-heartedly, slumped half over her game board.

"Miss." said Whitney, with just as much enthusiasm, digging out a white peg and pinning it into her board.

Jess exhaled sharply, puffing her cheeks out as she did so. Why were they still doing this? "Why are we playing this?"

"Because we hate ourselves." Whitney replied dryly. "E-Two"

Jess sighed deeply. "Hit." she replied, sinking a red peg into her submarine.

The two were seated in the school's mess hall, sitting at a long blue table with fold out benches attached to them. Other girls and boys mulled the hall, sat with their classmates and hung out with their crews or squads. The two were due for their years end English test next block and were _not _looking forward to it. "Where'd you even find this old thing anyways?" Jess asked.

"I was rummaging through one of the old rec rooms and found this old box of board games, like… they were all from the 80s or something, I swear." Whitney replied, "What I got… _bored…"_ she quipped, causing Jess to cringe something hard.

"That was _awful._" Jess groaned, her head sinking to press against the top of the table.

Whitney tilted her head back and laughed, "I know, I know, shoot m-" she paused, looking past Jess. She blinked a single time, seeming befuddled, before; "Oh, hey Kay." she then quickly added; "I'll never get tired of saying that." though she didn't look any less confused.

Jess looked over her shoulder, "Oh- uh…" she raised a brow, even as Kay gave her a slight wave in greeting. She wasn't in her Saunders uniform any more, rather she was dressed in the same digital blue ACU that most of the students wore. "What's with…" Jess started, trailing off as the question was pretty much implied.

"It's official. I'll be joining your crew as your fourth until I'm forced back to Japan." she stated, causing both Jess and Whitney to go bug eyed at the response.

"W-wha- I mean… that's awesome!" Whitney exclaimed, she sounded almost like she wanted to argue at first, but given it was _Kay_, she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Neither was Jess for that matter. She wasn't entirely sure what she thought of the other Japanese girls, but Kay, Kay was good company.

"Well, then let me officially welcome you to the official team." Jess replied, swiveling her legs over her seat so she reversed her position. She then stood and gave her a quick salute.

Kay chuckled slightly in response, playfully punching Jess's shoulder. "No need to be so formal _commander_." she remarked, getting Jess to smirk back. Kay cleared her throat and for a moment put on a faked regal accent, "But I come not bearing only news!" she proclaimed, before returning to her original voice. "I wanted you two and Audrey to meet me at Karl's after your classes. There's something I wanted to run by you."

Jess cast a quick glance back at Whitney, who just shrugged back. "Sure, I'm down." she said, with Jess looking back to Kay and nodding.

"We'll see if we can't drag her along with us after class." Jess stated, with the bell signaling the beginning of next period ringing. "Good." Jess mumbled, pivoting on her heels and slapping the Battleship board shut. "I was tired of that game anyways."

"Hey, it's a classic." Whitney pouted back.

Jess smirked and rolled her eyes with a slight grin. "Well pack the classic up, we've gotta go." and started helping her to put everything away. She cast a glance back to Kay. "We'll see you after classes."

"Sure thing!" Kay chirped, "I've gotta check in on something before we meet up, so I'll see you… say… at Karl's?"

Jess nodded and gave Kay a thumbs up over her shoulder. Wasn't like she was going to eat the crappy school meals anyways, she could use a bite after class. "Alright, see you then." Kay finished, turning to head out while Jess and Whitney finished packing up. She had no idea where to put this stuff…

"Uhhh…" she mumbled. Screw it, they'd just leave it, someone was bound to do _something _with it. They didn't have the time, class was soon to start.

* * *

**Meanwhile…**

After leaving the mess hall, Kay quickly jogged towards the main academic building, where she leapt up the stairs into the foyer and made her way towards the instructors' offices. The plan she and the others had come up with was a stab in the dark, but it was something that they felt had to be pushed through before any progress could be made. Every school back in Japan had this system where each team was assigned a tank, it was then theirs for the duration of the enrollment. They would maintain it, practice with it and if they so wished, customize it to whatever affect their individual schools would allow - the later only really being something that Ooarai did, but regardless, Miho proclaimed that it really made Angler's Panzer feel _theirs_.

That being said, Kay couldn't upright hand over her Sherman to Jess and her team. Ultimately the Saunders tanks were just that, _Saunders tanks._ Sure they were designated theirs while they were a part of the Sensho-do program, but… the school actually owned them.

Finding the instructors offices, she made her way to the one she felt she'd have the best chance in… she stood in front of the door and knocked. She was given permission to enter and stepped into Instructor Pool's office. Jess's mother looked up from her desk as Kay entered; "Ah, Kay. What can brings you here?"

Clasping her hands behind her back, Kay's eyes darted to the wall to her right… it was a nice wall. "Uh…" she nervously started. _Focus_. "I have a few questions. Things I want to run by you and ask you."

Mrs. Pool nodded, "Well that is usually what questions entail." she remarked and Kay had to refrain from smirking. Adults with a sense of humor, that was… refreshing. "Go on, sit." she added, motioning to the armchair in front of her desk, rising to reach behind her own chair of equal proportions and casting the drapes aside, letting some natural light in through the over-sized paneled window.

"R-right." Kay replied, slinking around the armchair and vaulting over the chair's right arm, sinking into the thick cushion below. She waited for Mrs. Pool to return to her seat before beginning. "Well, the other Japanese girls and I were discussing the differences and similarities between eastern and western styles of tankery and one of the things we noticed were teams weren't assigned tanks like they were back east. Is… that the norm' or…" she started, not really sure how to start this conversation without coming off as a awkward babbling fool.

"Well, our tank roster is rather limited at the moment what with the difficulty of finding and then transporting working tanks to the carrier, especially with the weather we've been dealing with as of late. It's not like we can just build more, heck, finding modern tanks for our nineties lineup is proving difficult as well. There really aren't any factories back on the mainland that are actively producing modern battle tanks, let alone authentic World War Two era tanks. So really, to answer your question, it boils down to availability. Once we have enough tanks, we'd be more open to assigning tanks to individual teams and giving them a bit more freedom with them. But as it stands, the readily available tanks are stuck at old tankery courses in the middle of the United States or buried deep within the recesses of the carrier…" Mrs. Pool explained, both her arms folded atop her desk.

Kay held a hand up to her chin in thought, furrowing her brow for but a moment, then returning to her previous resting expression. "So, would it be possible for us to search through the deeper sections of the ship to recover these tanks?" she asked.

Mrs. Pool, clenched her jaw and purser her lips hard. She then craned her neck slightly and cringed. "Errr… technically yes. But here's the thing. Repair and refit crews made sure the ship's superstructure is intact, so we're in no danger of springing a leak and sinking any time soon. Problem is, they didn't do quite as thorough a sweep of the old supply depots, where the tanks would be kept. It's still… well, it hasn't really been touched since the ship was shut down originally. So yes, one _could _head down there and look for tanks…" Mrs. Pool said, her eyes darting up and down Kay, reading her thoughts - she had to be, since her next statement pretty much nailed down the idea Kay was thinking of. "I would advise against going down there for the time being though. I'm not saying it's dangerous… but… I'd worry."

Kay rested her hands atop her thighs. If there were tanks down there, even if they weren't in the best of condition, that would go a long way to getting the American girls headed down the right path. Get them invested in their tanks, treat them as extensions of themselves. Maybe then they'd treat Sensho-do like a sport and not like battle. "Well, let's say we brought down IFF tracker tags. You could track our movements through the ship. Know where we are. Say, we bring down a couple more, slap them to any tanks we find and then recovery teams can be sent down."

Mrs. Pool released a long, drawn out sigh. She seemed to be grappling with the idea. Kay could tell she was conflicted about the idea. She then looked directly at Kay. "I think that could work." she relented. "Just, please, be careful down there if you're so set on this."

"I am." Kay replied, firm in her conviction. "It's the only way I we could see that would show the others what tankery truly is."

Mrs. Pool raised a brow. She pulled her chair in and sat back into it, lacing her fingers. "Tell me Kay, what is tankery to you?" she asked, making Kay's anxiety about the whole situation return.

"Oh- uh… it's a sport, a game. It's not War, it's meant to be fun and all teams are to respect the rules. It's supposed to teach girls honor, gallantry and modesty, while also making us better wives and mothers." she replied. It was what they'd always say during assemblies when referring to the sport. The latter part that is.

Mrs. Pool smiles and lightly chuckled. "Is that so?" she mused quietly. "The sentiment is nice, but I'm not so sure all those make sense. If you'll forgive me; even back when I was doing tankery in school, I don't recall them ever saying tankery would make me a better mother or wife. Is that how they portray it in the east then?" she asked. Kay nodded, with Mrs. Pool resuming; emitting another soft chuckle. "Interesting. For us, tankery was a sport primarily, but not exclusive to girls, they had always said it was meant as a form of empowerment in a society where men had always held such a large portion of the power. They had always said; _Take pride in your tanking and military sportsmanship, for it shows that you too can ride and fight with the best of them." _Mrs. Pool said, pausing for a moment, appearing to reflect on her younger days. "I guess it's why we always treated the sport like it was war, we wanted to show the boys that we could kick ass as much as they could." she chuckled, sinking her shoulders and leaning forward, planting an elbow on her desk and pressing her balled up left hand against her cheek. "But… as much as a sport as tankery is, I'm not entirely sold that it's a game…" she finished, sounding almost remorseful.

Kay was taken aback by Mrs. Pool explanation of what tankery meant to the west. She remained quiet for a period, thinking about what she'd heard. She heard differences, but if she paused to contemplate the meanings behind both, she found that in a deeper sense, perhaps they did have some very choice similarities. Though she wasn't sure what Mrs. Pool meant by _it's not a game_. Isn't that what a sport was?

"One other thing." Kay began, the tone of Mrs. Pool's voice making Kay desire a subject change. "Do we even have a plan for the days ahead?"

Mrs. Pool noded. "We'll be meeting the German School Ship Rommel between our current position and the United Kingdom. Assuming their trial run was successful, they will pick up the UK contingent and meet us at sea, where we will proceed to France and Germany. It's likely that more practice matches will be set up between contingents, though I do pray that they're not as… confrontational as our last one. Afterwards we're supposed to head down to the Mediterranean where we will meet the UK's School Ship Montgomery. According to our sources in the UK, they're down in the Indian Ocean right now on their way to pick up other Commonwealth units." Mrs. Pool answered, adding that; _it was all she knew_ for the time being. She didn't know what matches were planned in particular, nor the number of players that would be a part of each of the additional contingents that were joining them. Kay had heard little about the west's school ships, but even she was aware of The Rommel's legendary status as a thriving metropolis and beacon of hope for the Germans during the darkest days of World War Two. It was a controversial subject at best. The only specifics Kay knew about it however was that the Allies had on multiple occasions tried to sink it, but anything they threw at it was just shrugged off. Air attacks were like poking at it with a needle and it was absolute suicide for the Royal Navy to go toe to toe with it. She wasn't sure why Nazi Germany never used it as an actual warship though, she didn't really study the topic… no doubt the massive guns on it could have fired slugs massive enough to have a blast similar to Little Boy.

Kay pushed out of her chair and gave Mrs. Pool a respectful bow. "Thank you for your time Mrs. Pool. Would you be able to give me clearance to acquire some of those tags?"

Mrs. Pool nodded and pulled a drawer open from her desk. Reaching inside she produced a number of sheets of paper. She pulled her pen and scribbled something down on them, then signed her name over a lined area before tearing the paper cleanly from the spine that held all the sheets together. She handed the form to Kay. "Requisition forms, head over to the armory and show them that, I'll phone ahead and let them know you're coming."

Kay nodded and bowed again. "Thank you." she said, before seeing herself from the office. She looked down at the form she'd received as she walked down the hall, looking for the academic building's exit. The form wrote her off for eight tags. Just enough for the four of them to ID themselves and for them to tag at least four tanks if they could find that many.

Kay whipped her phone out to check the time, she had about forty five minutes till classes were out for the day. She was doubtful she'd have time, but before meeting up at Karl's, perhaps she might find a map of the lower levels of the ship… some old diagrams, or even a rusty old _you are here _style mall map. Because while the higher ups would know where they were, they themselves would be in the dark, probably quite literally. Getting lost in the labyrinthine corridors down there was what Kay was worried about most. That and tetanus, because she expected plenty of rust.

She'd cross that bridge when she came to it. For now, the armory. It would be next to the gun range, so Kay just headed straight that way, the sounds of gunfire echoing across the school grounds, only getting more ear piercing the closer she got. She didn't actually have to go into the range, she would just swing by the large tent outside that functioned as said armory.

Approaching the armory tent, Kay noticed, beyond the fence of the range that Rosehip was within, speaking to one of the boys, who upon closer inspection was one of the Canadian boys. It seemed as though he was taking a step back from the firing plate, though it was anyone's guess what Rosehip was doing there. Not important.

She entered the tent and did a quick scan of the place. It was pretty makeshift, barebones steel shelves were crammed within. Ammo, guns and… she really hoped those weren't live grenades… were packed in here. Along with some other digital hardware for nineties matches. Now Kay was fairly confident that this would not have flown in an actual base, especially one overseas. Regardless, Kay's eyes landed on an adult male, sitting over at a plain old steel desk, a shut laptop rested atop the table and behind it was fold out chair. The mas was sitting in it, legs kicked up onto the tabletop and he appeared to be using a tablet of sorts. Kay lightly coughed. The _quartermaster _though Kay wasn't sure _master _was an appropriate use of the word in this situation, flinched and nearly dropped his tablet before slipping it back onto the table, making it spin in place as he quickly stood.

"Err, didn't expect you'd be comin' along so quick." He mumbled. He sank a hand into one of his pockets, pulling out a keyring loaded with keys. He began walking through the racks and fumbling with the keys. Kay followed him at a bit of a distance as he made his way towards one of the green metal cabinets lined against the flaps of the tent. "I think this is th' one." he muttered, stabbing one of the keys into the cabinets' keyhole and turning, surprisingly it was the right one. "Ah good." he swung the doors open and dug a hand into one of the small boxes nestled within, pulling out a fist full of tags.

Kay realized, he hadn't even asked for the requisition form that Mrs. Pool had given her. She began to become a little worried if this was the state of the school's arms management. She produced the form before the man turned back around, extending her arm towards him, form in hand. He whipped around and held out the tags and flinched again, apparently not expecting her to have the form out and flaunting it virtually in his face. "Oh, righ' I should probably take tha'." he muttered, trading her the tags for the form. "And you'll probably wan' a map if yer headed down there. Tha' phone of yers got bluetooth?" he asked.

Kay nodded at the southern sounding man, who made his way around her and back to his desk, flipping open his laptop. "Alrigh' turn tha' sucker on and sync up, I'll get'chu a right map of th' lower levels, it oughta be stored in 'ere somewhere." he said, followed by incessant clicking and occasional _shoot_'s and _dawrn_'s. "'Ere we go."

Kay hesitantly produced her phone and searched for the bluetooth connection, locating it and syncing up for a file transfer. The laptop had to be school or ship issued, was probably used for managing… stuff. Considering what she had just bore witness to, it was hard to say any managing was being done here. "Alrigh' there ya go. Happy hun'ing lil' lady." the man remarked after Kay found and downloaded the file. She managed back an… awkward toothy grin as best she could, though once she was out of there it turned into a cringe.

"_Just go to Karl's, study the map, maybe get a cheeseburger", _Kay thought, yeah that would get her mind off the Awk-bomb that just went off. _"Little lady… right…" _she echoed in her head. She cast a quick glance to the range as she made her way towards the school's front gate. Rosehip was leaving the range, it seemed like she had finished her conversation with the Canadian guy. Right! Karl's! She double checked the time, half an hour till class was out. Yeah, she could get this done by then.

One jog down the road and about thirty five minutes of cramming - both food and information - later and Kay heard the bell to the dinner ring. She looked up to see the three American girls enter, with Jess and Audrey taking a seat across from Kay at the booth she sat at, Whitney however made a beeline for the counter and began placing orders. Kay chuckled, she'd left a food basket out on the table, nothing but empty wrappers and sauce stains in it. Then again she was pretty sure that Jess had wanted something that wasn't crappy school food… she shook her head, she was losing focus again. She'd been finding it hard to concentrate today, constantly finding her mind wandered to other, more confusing thoughts, though she couldn't for the life of her pin them down and analyse them.

"Hey Kay, so what's up?" Jess asked, scooting over to allow Audrey to slide in next to her.

Kay shook her quickly and violently trying to snap herself out of it. "Well, I've been thinking that your team needs tanks, more and better tanks. So I asked around and there's reason to believe that there are still dozens of tanks stocked below deck in areas they've not fully combed. Problem is, they can't find those tanks right now, I guess they're to busy with other parts of the ship. So I did some digging, asked a few favors and got us permission to head down there and tag some tanks for recovery." she explained, holding up the tags she'd acquired. Jess raised a brow and leaned over the table pulling one of the tags from the bundle. She stared at it for a moment.

"Sounds fun." she mused, turning her head to Audrey. "You in?"

"Spending god knows how long down in the dark hunting for giant hunks of metal?" she pondered, pausing for a moment before giving a nonchalant shrug. "Why not?"

That just left- "I'm in!" Whitney exclaimed from the counter, only to turn her attention back to the front as several styrofoam containers were placed in front of her. She picked them up and made her way towards the booth that the girls were at, handing out two of the containers to Jess and Audrey. "Tao for you and Ginger Beef for you." Whitney chirped, handing out food to Jess and Audrey respectively.

Kay chuckled, shifting to the side, allowing Whitney to sit down. While they ate, she'd continue to study the map, she'd already located two of the storage bays. They were relatively close to each other, separated by only a few corridors. Assuming everything went well, she expected them to come back up with a decent haul.

* * *

**Meanwhile…**

Rosehip had just left the gun range after speaking to one of the Canadian boys; a Jacob Snow. She was familiar with his sister Jennifer, the commander of the Canadian contingent. Once a few steps from the fence she picked up into a quick jog. She'd been asked by Yukari to speak to him, since Yukari's English was extremely limited. She hadn't gotten all the details from Yukari, but knowing her mouth, perhaps that was for the best. She had her suspicions, but after talking to the boy for a while, she began to piece things together. The two had obviously had prior interactions and while Yukari's limited English and Jacob's non-existent Japanese made communication difficult, the excitement she'd seen Jacob display when talking about military hardware made it clear.

"_Yukari's developing a little bit of a crush, isn't she?_" she thought as she ran towards the academic building. Curiously, Jacob had asked Rosehip if she or any of the other Japanese girls would be able to teach him a bit of Japanese.

Now, Rosehip had prior commitments, she'd already agreed to help Yukari with her English. So perhaps Darjeeling, Alisa, Pekoe or one of the other Sauders or Gloriana girls would be willing to help. Kay wasn't an option, she was busy executing the beginnings of the plan to teach the Western girls a special lesson on Sensho-do.

Rosehip had nearly reached the stairs up into the building when she brought her foot down on a patch of black ice mid-dash. She flailed her arms and screamed as she skidded across the ice and narrowly caught herself on the stair railing before she fell and broke anything. Such was life in her eyes. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she bounded up the steps and inside. She knew where she was going and how to get there, so it wasn't much longer before she located the room where they'd agreed to meet. She pressed inside and found Yukari waiting, with pen and paper laid out in front of her on the desk she sat at. It was an empty classroom, it was also the one that Darjeeling had selected for their English lessons with the rest of the Ooarai girls. Today however, there were no lessons planned, Yukari being here on her own, seeming eager to accelerate the pace of which she picked up the language.

"Alright." Rosehip started, quickly scanning the room before fully addressing Yukari, clasping her hands. "Let's get started!" she said in Japanese, taking a seat across from Yukari.

She jumped right into it. Now, she may not have been the best tutor, she insisted that Yukari speak in English as much as possible during lessons and answered her questions _in _English. The rate she spoke at may have also been far too fast for Yukari to pick up on.

"I do not… f-... fallow." Yukari tried to interject while Rosehip ran through _it, its and it's _as to how to use them and other oddities of the English language.

"Ok, ok, we'll try again. _It _refers to something, pretty much anything when speaking about said object. _Its, _no apostrophe, means something belongs to someone, such as if I said in reference to say, our tanks; repair its tracks while I unjam its gun. For example." Rosehip explained, "And _it's_, with an apostrophe means _it is_, or informally _it has_, such as; It's Naomi's." she said, writing these down and showing them to Yukari, who only facetabled in response.

Yukari groaned softly. "But why is there an apostrophe after Namoi, then? And… wait… you just used _it's_ to say something belonged to someone, I don't- I… what?!"

Rosehip sighed lightly, this was going to be a long afternoon. English sucked. It was useful, very much so and to those who learned the language early, it _was _second nature… but by god, if you stopped to examine how it functioned, it was a damn mess. You kinda just had to accept that there were loopholes for pretty much every rule in the language. Like if she wanted to detail something, she could just add a _-ly _to the end of almost any word, it probably would sound dumb, but it would generally get her point across. Little things like that.

"Okay… well, let's take a break for a moment shall we?" Rosehip suggested, quite unlike her, but she was getting antsy and needed to stand, maybe pace around a bit at a quickened pace.

There was a tense moment of silence as Rosehip walked circles around the classroom. She wasn't hiding how stressful this was. She was starting to have second thoughts about agreeing to this. "What did he say?" Yukari asked in heavily accented English.

Rosehip stopped mid-step before slowly teetering back onto her two feet. "Eh?" she asked, not sure if she heard Yukari right.

"I ask, what did he say?" she repeated, causing Rosehip to shake, then rub the side of her head.

"Oh… well…" she started, not sure if she should use Japanese or continue speaking in English. She'd _try _to take it a bit slower than usual. Though that probably wasn't saying much. "I only spoke to him for a little bit. He actually asked about learning Japanese-" she wasn't finished, but Rosehip _had _started to speed back up a bit, though this was interrupted and brought back down a bit when she saw Yukari's face light up upon starting his desire to learn Japanese, she had to hold back a giggle. "-but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be the best teacher for that. I'm already… struggling here." she said, then went deadpan… she hadn't meant to say that last part and mentally cringed when Yukari's own expression faltered a little bit. "Err…"

"No, it is ok. English is not easy to learn. Right?" Yukari replied, still trying to speak English. "I will keep trying." she affirmed, raising Rosehip's curiosity. She began to return to her chair across from Yukari.

"If I may ask. Why are you so…" she struggled for a simple word to use. "Why do you want to learn English this much?" she asked. It was obvious why, but Rosehip was curious; was this for the exact reason she thought it was.

"I want to speak with him more." Yukari said. "Hana, Miho, Mako and Saoti, very nice girls. But I've never really spoken to much boys. They are scared by my… uh… obstruction… with tanks." she explained, causing Rosehip to raise a brow… _Obsession_, that's probably what she meant. "And he was sounding like he liked talking about them. I have not seen many boys like that back home."

Rosehip couldn't help but find this all very cute. The amount of boys around their age was pretty limited on the Japanese school ships, most being kids who had been dragged along by their family and with little interest in the on-goings of the all girls schools aboard the ships. But here in the west, with the schools being co-ed, mostly, there was the influx of boys who actually found an interest in Sensho-do and the activities and topics associated with it. She'd never really thought about this before.

This little interaction gave Rosehip a little bit of hope, inspiration if you will. She wondered just to what extent this trip abroad would change them or their perspectives. She felt optimistic, surely this was for the best. Maybe when they got back to Japan they could convince _someone _to make Sensho-do at least semi co-ed, akin to how they were doing it over here. "I'll ask Darjeeling or Pekoe if they wouldn't mind teaching him some Japanese, but we're going to continue on this, right?"

Yukari nodded energetically. "Yes!" she chirped. Rosehip smiled, chuckling.

"Alright." she replied, drawing her pen. "Let's slam our faces against the wall a little more shall we?" she joked, before getting back down to the lesson at hand.

* * *

**Meanwhile…**

"Did I say sounds like fun? Yeah, I take that back now." Jess whispered, holding up her phone, using the camera light as a flashlight. All of them were.

"Why are we whispering?" Whitney asked, also lowering her voice to match Jess's.

"Uhh… I dunno. Because it's thematic?" she offered, "I'm also slightly creeped out."

"Ooooohhhh… the commander is afraid of ghosts or something… oohohohohohooh…" Audrey mocked, stepping past her and walking ahead of the other three.

"No, I'm not afraid of ghosts. I don't buy into any of that, ghosts aren't real." Jess replied, taking pace behind Audrey and in front of Whitney, while Kay was in the rear.

These halls were decrepit and aged. Junk littered the corridor floors and occasional crates and old materials were stacked against the walls. Power was non-existent in these sectors of the ship, Jess figured they'd been like this since the ship was originally shut down. "I'm just worried one of these rusty old beams is gonna collapse or something… or I'm gonna like… step on a rusty nail or something and need a tetanus shot."

"For the record, ghosts are totally real." Whitney interjected, "Haven't you seen Ghost Adventures, or Buzzfeed Unsolved?"

Jess rolled her eyes. "While both are quite entertaining, I don't give one of them too much credit, the other one… maybe… but I'm still a Shaneiac."

"Sooo… you're more of an _aliens _and _Sasquatch_ kinda gal?" asked Audrey, looking over her shoulder with a smirk, which in this lighting made her like devilishly evil. Jess shivered and groaned, _didn't like that_.

"They make more sense then friggin' ghosts." Jess quipped back, looking over her shoulder, back at a smug Whitney and confused looking Kay. "You must be so lost." Jess poked at Kay.

"I'm not really familiar with what you're talking about." Kay replied, then held up her phone, turning the screen on, lighting her face up blue. "Alright, so Audrey, take a left at the next junction."

"Got it." Audrey echoed back, her words reverberating off the metal walls, which in the dead silence of the ship's deep bowels almost sounded like she was shouting directly into her ear.

That was when they heard a bang from up ahead, the four of them freezing in place…

"H-holy shit… what the hell was that?!" Whitney hissed quietly.

"G-g-g-g-..." Audrey stammered, though Jess knew exactly what she was going to say.

"It's not fucking ghosts." Jess interjected, putting a hand on Audrey's shoulder and beckoning for the others to follow. Whitney and Audrey fervently protested, though Kay didn't seem nearly as bothered. Kay made her way to the front. "C'mon, or you'll be left behind." Jess taunted, starting to head down the hall towards the junction. In the direction of the crash.

"Aaauuuuugghhh… _fuck_." Whitney wheezed out with a squeak, clambering after the other two girls, with Audrey hot on her heels.

Jess know for a damn fact it wasn't ghosts. She smelled something all to familiar to her Washington bred nose. Something that of recent had become noticeably more common after its legalization. "Smell that?" Jess offered, holding a hand up and giving a loud sniff.

Kay held a hand up to her nose. "Eugh, smells like… skunk."

"Trust me, skunk smells way worse. I'm rather attuned to this though." Jess replied.

"What the heck is it?" Kay asked, now fully encompassing her nose with her hand, breathing through her mouth.

"Oh… oh c'mon." Audrey interrupted, a hand also over her nose, coughing slightly. "The devil's grass." she commented. Harsh.

"Yep, it's that funny grass." Jess replied. Weed, she was talking about that Marijuana. She had a sneaking suspicion of who it might be… "Kay, how far are we from the nearest supply depot?"

With hand still clenched over her nose, Kay replied, in a honking tone what with her nose plugged; "Left, straight down the corridor and then through the wide bay doors."

Jess nodded, taking the supplied left once she reached the junction in question, following the corridor. The smell was getting stronger. It reached its peak when they reached the already open bay doors to one of the supply depots. As they approached the doors, Jess could hear muffled and hushed noises. Curses and remarks of _"Oh shit"_ and the patter of footsteps. Jess momentarily picked up the pace, darting through the door and shining her light around. Her light landed on a group of teens about her age. A few Canadian and American players, both boys and girls were caught red handed… or would that be green handed?

In general the supply depot was devoid of tanks from what Jess could tell, instead it was stocked with old shipping containers and heavy machinery. Jess guessed this may have been a domestic supply bay for commercial goods. The group of teens; in total there seemed to be about half a dozen, were gathered in front of one of the containers, which was riddled with rusty holes.

Of the frozen teens, one of them, a boy, American, turned about and laid eyes upon Jess. "O-oh, heeeey commander. W-what brings you down here?" he stammered out, both hands out in a friendly manner… then his eyes darted to his left at his hand, still holding a smoldering joint. He quickly ducked his hand behind her back.

"Would you believe looking for tanks?" Jess offered, getting a surprised look from the boy, the rest of the teens seemed… nervous. At least as nervous as you can be when half of you are stoned out of your gourd. "I'd ask what you all are doing down here, but that would be pointless." she added, gesturing towards them.

"A-and…" he stuttered… "Are-"

"I don't care. I'm from Washington and half of you are Canadians, that shit's legal in both those places. Besides… I don't see the harm, so long as you guys are able to make it back to the surface without killing yourselves."

"C-can do commander." replied the American boy, giving a slight salute with his free hand.

"Right, now then…" Jess mused, looking around, starting to meander towards a shut shipping container, intent on checking behind it, as a set of containers created a bit of an L shaped alcove that she might find something in. "We're going to look around, see if we can't find any heavy metal to beef up our arsenal with." she said, starting to pick up speed, making her path apparent.

"Err. Commander, I wouldn't go back there if I were you." The boy intervened, stopping Jess in her tracks… she looked over her shoulder, motioning for Kay, Whitney and Audrey to fan out in other directions to start looking, or at least she would have if not for being offered the priceless excuse of;

"Just… don't…" pleaded the boy, followed by a pair of voices from within the alcove of crates.

"Yeah, just please don't." came the voice of another boy.

"Yeah, you have no idea how awkward this already is." added the voice of one of the female players.

Jess immediately put two-and-two together, making a silent _"Oooohhhh…" _with her mouth. She was glad her screen light was blue, it masked the color of her face.

"Y-yeah, besides, we've been down here quite a bit, no tanks in this bay… might have more luck in the one across." offered the American boy at the head of the group.

Jess nodded slowly… starting to lead her girls to an exit far to the right of the room which should have lead them back into a connecting corridor. "A-alright… thanks." she yelled back as she made her exit. If they were going to make her feel this awkward though… she wanted to hit them right back. She pivoted on her heels and slowed down, letting her girls pass her. Backpedaling, she teased back. "Make sure to use a con-" her heel connected with a loose steel pipe, causing it to slam against another, making a loud, ear shattering clatter and she felt herself start to fall backwards only to land in the supporting arms of Kay and Whitney, keeping her from slamming into the hard metal ground. "-dum…" she finished with a squeak. Mission failed, she'd get 'em next time.

"Thank you." Jess quietly squealed, being helped back to her feet.

"Yeah, yeah!" called back one of the boys, though she couldn't tell if it was the one she'd been speaking to or the one behind the containers.

As they made their exit out into the adjacent passageway, Kay turned to Jess and whispered; "Where they?"

"Toking and _poking_? Yes." Jess remarked, though she wasn't sure if _poking_ was an apt turn of phrase. "Just… high school things…" she added with a sigh, while she may not have been about that life, she was aware that others definitely were. "So where's that other bay?" Jess asked.

"Err…" Kay struggled to regain her composure after Jess affirmed her query. She slowly raised her phone. "Down the hall, take the first set of stairs we come across down, then immediately to the right." Kay finally answered.

Jess nodded, beckoning for the others to follow. "Alright, then let's see if we can't bag ourselves some tanks."

"Hey is it possible to get high off the fumes?" Whitney asked as they made their way down the hall. Jess wasn't actually sure on the answer to that… she didn't think so. I mean, it was pretty smokey in there, she might have guessed they used the shipping containers to hotbox or something of the sort - difficult as that may have been with how many holes were in them, but…

"I don't _think _so, but… don't quote me on that." Jess replied, pausing as she reached the stairs. She tentatively put a food on the first step, then gave a slight hop on it. Seemed solid enough. She began to make her way cautiously down the stairs… the others followed closely behind. Perhaps that may have been a mistake.

Once all four of them were on the stairs, there was a loud snap from the top of them and the staircase began to topple back as they came out from the top shelf. The four of them screamed in surprise as the stairs loudly clattered to the floor, the entire metal frame crashing into the lower level. The girls had all bailed, reflexively, as the stairs fell, landing to the side of the metal staircase frame in an awkward heap of limbs.

"Ugh… please get off me." Jess groaned from the bottom of the dog pile. "Can't breath."

"R-right!" Whitney exclaimed, sounding like she was at the top.

This couldn't have been much more awkward, but it was, as if the angle she had landed at wasn't painful enough, she was pretty sure that Kay was sandwiched between her and Audrey at an equally awkward albeit less painful position as she lay perpendicular atop Jess, using her chest as a cushion. "For what it's worth, this isn't as comfortable as you think… firmer than I expected." Kay commented, wheezing slightly as all the air was pushed from her lungs as Whitney got up and vaulted off the top of the pile.

"Oh shut up!" Jess quipped back, "Now is not the time for breast banter!" she barked quickly, needing to conserve her air as Audrey then slid off next, finally allowing Kay to pick herself up and dust herself off, then offering a hand to Jess. She took it without complaint, though she was pretty sure upon standing back up that she'd sprained something. She stumbled, getting steadied out by Kay before she fell down again. She eased the pressure on her left food. Yup, sprained her ankle. "Damn it, I messed up my ankle" she commented, hobbling along.

"Here, I'll help." Kay said, offering her shoulder.

Jess nodded, wrapping her arm around Kay's shoulders. "Thanks, c'mon, let's check this supply bay and get out of here. Even if we come up short, I think this will be enough tank hunting for one day."

A round of agreement passed from the girls around her. Kay helped her hobble into the next supply bay, which was as she had said, just next to where the bottom of the stairs would have been. Thankfully, Kay would also confirm that there were indeed other ways of traversing the floors of the ship.

As they entered, Whitney and Audrey held their phone lights up. Jess's mood was immediately brightened. _Jackpot_. There weren't say, rows and rows of tanks, but she saw where they would have been. Most of the tanks had been shifted out of the carrier when it was decommissioned but a few yet remained. Worn out, in need of serious maintenance, but something they could work with nonetheless. The girls fanned out and took stock of what they'd found. The supply bay was relatively clear of obstacles. No shipping crates, just heavy machinery and heavy armor. Some of the tanks were M10 Wolverines, they couldn't use those since they were open tops, but among the totaled Sherman tanks were two M4A1(76)w Shermans, wonderful machines to add to their arsenal. They'd slap two of their tags to them, but they weren't the main prizes.

Nestled in the far corner of the room, Jess and the girls came across two more Sherman variants, one of them was the M4A3E2 Assault Tank, otherwise known post-war as the Sherman _Jumbo_. A super up-armored Sherman tank with an extra inch of cast armor. If they could get this one up and running, it might make a great flag tank thanks to its heavy armor. The other was covered by a tarp and was turned at a slight angle, as if they'd planned to ship it out, but change their minds part way through. Jess reached up, still supported by Kay, who reached up with her free hand and the two jerked the tarp off the tank. The long gun of the Sherman bore a much needed muzzle brake for its 76mm gun sprouting forth from its up-armored turret. The hull wasn't much different from a regular Sherman, but the treds, almost double with width of a normal Sherman's, possibly sacrificing road speed for off road speed and insurance against muddy terrain. The M4A3E8 was a beauty, the _Easy Eight _had a bit of rust on the side of it's hull, but it didn't appear to be in as bad a condition as the rest of the tanks in the bay, thanks to the tarp that had been covering it. Jess scrapped a bit of rust off, revealing something painted underneath it. It was hard to make out, some of the rust ate deeper than the rest, cutting the words up, but after observing the length of the phrase, she read out the words; _In the Mood_, painted on the side of the tank. Why did that sound so familiar? Then it hit her.

"Kay… this is my new command tank." she muttered, slapping a tag against the Easy Eight.

Kay almost beamed with excitement at this revelation. "W-what?! Really! Awesome!" she cheered, causing Jess to flinch. She seemed… quite enthused by this information. But after a moment of silence on Jess's part, Kay asked; "Is… there something special about this tank? Did it just call to you?"

Jess shook her head. "This was my mother's primary tank. From back when she played the sport." she gestured to the phrase _In the Mood _that was painted along the side of the tank in white. "And in a sense, also my grandfather's. During the Second World War, my grandfather operated three tanks, none of them were Easy Eights, but they were all named _In the Mood_. So yeah. I guess you could say the tank really called out to me… put me _in the mood_, so to speak." Jess forced herself to smirk, she hadn't meant to. That had sounded _way _better in her head, she could just feel Kay roll her eyes.

"That's… that's amazing." Kay remarked, much to Jess's surprise. "If that's so… then… this is definitely the tank for you." Kay firmly placed a hand on Jess's opposite shoulder and for a moment Jess didn't know what to think. "This tank is going to become a part of you, a part of us as we operate it in the future. Treasure it, alright? Make it speak to you."

Jess wasn't sure where all this emotional shit was coming from, Kay had always struck her as a larger than life kinda figure. More of a go-getter, loud and proud kinda girl. In the end, Jess guessed that perhaps, something had just struck her… _in the mood._ Ugh, she was going to get herself killed making this pun over and over again, she just knew it.

Kay then looked over her shoulder, "As for this bad boy, I'd say it would make a nice flag tank, wouldn't you?"

It was as if Kay had read her mind earlier. Jess nodded. "Indeed, I believe it would." she affirmed, then gestured to the tank, Kay holding the last of their tags. "Please, by all means."

Kay chuckled, pulling her tag out and slapping it against the Sherman Jumbo. Recovery teams would be on their way later in the day. Jess hobbled out from between the tanks with Kay's help, "Alright, everyone form up!" she ordered, calling Audrey and Whitney to her side as well. "We've done good today, gotten a bit more excitement than we expected, but it's only the beginning. I've picked us out a new command tank, so tomorrow, we'll be fixing up this here Easy Eight. Assuming we can actually get this one placed under our full control, I'm open to suggestions on how to spruce it up. We'll make this _our _tank, not just mine."

Jess swore she heard Kay giggle softly, she sounded joyously pleased. "That's what I like to hear." she added.

Whitney snapped her fingers. "Oooh… I've got the perfect idea in mind! I'm gonna need a stencil." she commented, getting Audrey to raise a brow.

"If you're making an addition I get to as well." she then raised both brow, perhaps realizing that it wasn't her final call to make, looking towards Jess. "If… that's alright."

Jess nodded. "So long as your modifications don't make us an easy target, I've no complaints!" Jess chirped, "Buuut, we can talk about this more above deck. I don't know about the three of you, but I've had enough dank, dusty corridors for one day. I need me the sun."

The other three nodded and confirmed their agreement. Jess cast a look back at the tanks as they began to file out of the storage bay. For the first time, she really felt a connection with something that was supposed to just be a hunk of armor and firepower… she hoped she could convince someone to let the tank be officially put under her command. _If _that someone was her mother, who knew the sentimental value of the tank… then she didn't see why not.

But first, sun. Sun and maybe decent coffee… apparently they'd opened up something called a Tim Hortons not far from the school today now that they were in warmer waters. Yeah. Decent coffee sounded good.

"I'm proud of you Jess." Kay whispered, so quietly that Jess almost thought she may have imagined it. "You've taken the first steps into understanding the true meaning of Sensho-do." she added, using the Japanese term for tankery. Jess cast a quick glance to Kay who remained looking forward. Though, her eyes darted towards Jess, acknowledging her gaze. Kay did give her a slight grin though, it was rather cute.

Jess shook her head, blowing hot air out her nose. Nah, she wasn't thinking… well… maybe… she'd never thought about it before. She shoved the brewing thought out of her mind, she'd dwell on its meaning later. For now she needed for focus on getting out of these damn corridors and praying that the next set of stairs they came across didn't yeet out from under their feet like the last one had.

She chuckled slightly, tomorrow was the sixth, her birthday, she'd be eighteen and her birthday present might very well be a new tank… oh the joy. Seriously, she was looking forward to it!


	9. Big Like Bismark

**June 6th, 2019 - Somewhere in the Atlantic, The USS Eisenhower**

Jess, Kay, Whitney and Audrey were gathered around the recovered tanks, across from them, the stock of current tanks were lined out behind them. They'd assembled in the motor pool's assembly area, the clear open patch of concrete where they had assembled before heading out to face off against the Canadians. Along with most of Alpha and Bravo platoons, the new tanks had already been assigned. Much to Jess's joy, the Easy Eight was assigned to her and her team. "Alright crews! Lets clean these bad boys up! _De-rust _'em, then we'll remove the engine blocks, clean them up, replace any totalled parts and swap out the tracks for new ones. Gun maintenance will be last on the list since I don't think we'll be firing these things for a while." she ordered, making her way down the newly acquired tanks. By this point, even some of the other tanks had been officially assigned, now that the stock of American tanks had been increased. While the four that had been initially tagged had been brought up, recovery crews were still combing the supply depot that the girls had found for useful armor. They anticipated making additional finds.

"Alright, Ramirez, you've been assigned one of the M4A1-76ers, swap out that tiny Stuart." Jess started, jabbing a finger at Ramirez and her team, one of the girls behind her jumping with a cheerful, _woo!_

"Gracias! Really tired of being the first taken out in every engagement!" she replied, snapping a salute. As she made her way towards the recovered 76er, her team grabbed the needed equipment to begin cleaning the rust off the tank.

"Kaiwi, you're getting the other 76er." Jess listed off, pointing to the Hawaiian girl, then to the Southerner, "Reed, you are being switched to the Jumbo. Johnson, you're taking Reed's M4 Sherman and Mclane, you'll be sticking with the Chaffee, we need some light tanks on the field and the Chaffee is really the only thing that can compete. The Easy Eight will be our new command tank, Mary, your new Jumbo is likely to be labeled as the flag tank in future matches. That means _no _reckless charges." she rattled off. Each time she relayed tank assignments, their crews would rush off to take their place in front of them.

All of them wore their digi-blue ACUs, even Kay. Jess, coughed loudly, getting everyone's attention, then gestured towards Whitney, who all along had been standing behind a push cart loaded with stencils, paint, bottles of soap and water, cheap disposable facemasks and sheets of sandpaper. "Cpl. Oliver, you have the floor." she said, letting Whitney address the tank platoons.

"Thank you Lieutenant!" Whitney chirped, almost all of Alpha and Bravo platoon had received promotions after their match with the Canadians, none of them were cadets any more and Jess still held the highest rank at First Lieutenant and though she wasn't a _captain_ persay, she was still the American overall commander. "Listen up ladies! We'll be assigning each individual tank a callsign, feel free to name your tanks whatever you like, but for callsigns, we'll be selecting from various animals. I've collected an extensive collection of stencils for you all to choose from, whatever you pick will be your callsign." Whitney explained, gesturing towards the cart. "This one is _mine _though." she remarked, pulling out a stencil of a noteworthy mustelidae that really doesn't give a fuck. "For those of you who don't know how to do this, before you can repaint your tank, we need to remove the rust, take some sandpaper and a primer; scrape as much of the rust as you can off, then wipe down the area with a rag, once you've removed all the rust you can, apply the primer and wait. It will take about half an hour to dry, so I'll cover the next set of steps with you all once we're all past that point." Whitney then snapped herself towards Jess and with a hop off her heels exclaimed; "And that is all for now!"

Jess snirked and with a wave of her hand, finished; "Alright, that's all, best we get to it." and with that their little pre-painting assembly was finished. Jess and most of the other girls crowded around the cart in no organized fashion, occasionally one of the girls would wiggle their way out of the cluster munch with a can of paint, a sheet of sandpaper and a couple other of the items she needed, though often missing one.

No one had tried to start the tanks yet, it was feared that with their old decrepit engines that they would not run, but more so that if they did run, that they would explode or immediately combust. Which yes, was the purpose of an engine, technically, but less contained than the standard operational function. Instead, alternate paths down to the supply depots had to be carved, re opening the trans-ship roads that snaked through and atop the ship so they could ferry the tank husks back with heavy transports.

"Things are really coming together now, aren't they?" Kay quietly mused from behind. Jess craned her head back to look over her shoulder, then pivoted on her heels to face the blonde behind her.

Jess couldn't mask her spry excitement. "Oh you bet!" she chirped, she was glad to have the team outfitted with better equipment, those Stuarts were just not going to be able to stand up to the heavier tanks they were bound to encounter in future matches. The heavier armor was also nice, even with all the safety precautions in place, she was worried that a shell might actually pierce the lighter Stuart glacis plate at only forty-four millimeters, as opposed to the Sherman glacis plate, effectively equal to about ninety millimeters of armor. It allowed much more room to add depleted uranium plating and chobham panels… which these old models weren't fitted with yet…

Jess cringed slightly, this just dawning on her. "Something the matter?" Kay asked, taking notice of her expression.

Jess explained the conundrum. The tanks would be out even longer than expected so they could be retrofitted with the modern safety requirements. "Ah, right…" Kay quietly replied. "Wait does that mean they have to replace the hulls?"

Jess shook her head, "I don't think so, they'll just cut out a spot for the new armor and layer it within, that's how the older tanks are upgraded anyways." she explained, rather she relayed information she'd heard from her mother, though not all the details had been laid out in front of her - she'd only been twelve when they had _that _conversation.

"Well, best leave that to the professionals then." Kay concluded, taking a rocking step back and giving the muddle of girls around the cart a wide berth as she proceeded towards the Easy Eight. Jess would see Whitney was already busy removing rust, while Audrey followed close next to her, touching up the hull and painting over the naked areas with a green spray can.

Finally, Jess managed to acquire one of the last few cans of pain, grabbing a white can and a few white masks before following loosely behind Kay, giving the can she held a good shake. "We can still work on the engine." she added, since specialized teams weren't required for _that_. She fell in next to Audrey, who like Whitney was already donning one of those white masks, it was already starting to gain a green tint to it as paint particles clung to it. That actually summed up the entire atmosphere, just a cacophony of _shakin' and paintin'_, so to speak. The rapid clicking of undulating paint cans and the hiss of their application in conjunction with the rough scrapping that accompanied rust removal.

"Jess, you wanna fix up the slogan on the side of the tank once this layer has dried?" Audrey asked, standing up after painting over a lower portion of the hull.

Jess nodded, adding in response; "Yeah, but that's gonna be a while." there was a considerable silence that followed as the two of them - Audrey and Whitney - did most of the work relating to the exterior. The interior was bound to be just as much of a nightmare, but since they needed to be retrofitted, there was little point to touching up the inside now, the refitters would just tear it all up anyways. Though eventually one of the hoisters - essentially just a small crane - was pushed around to the Easy Eight, once the counterweight was adjusted there would be nothing stopping Kay and Jess from pulling out the engine and examining just the extent of the damage. Kay had climbed up onto the rear of the tank and reached down for the toolbox at the base of the tank. She made this straining, somewhat adorable squealing sound as she extended her arm while holding onto the top grate with her other hand, trying not to slide off the hull. Eventually she gave up with an exasperated sigh, content for the moment to just lay atop the tank on her stomach.

Jess casually walked over, bent down and picked up the toolbox. "Having trouble?" she remarked, holding back a very obvious chuckle. She set the box atop the rear of the tank just as Kay picked her head up and looked at Jess, then to the toolbox she so graciously delivered her.

"Thank you." she mumbled, slowly cracking a faint smirk, pushing herself back up to a sitting position. The entire front of her uniform was caked in a _uniform_ pattern of grease and rust particles. "Ack…" she grumbled, looking down at her chest, the blue of her uniform really not complimenting the black and brown patterns she'd gained. The hand she'd been using to retain her position on the tank had also been greased up from holding the engine grate. Hesitantly she wiped her hands on her uniform in an attempt to somewhat clean them off, though this only made a token difference. "Gonna need to hit the showers after this…" she mused, then picked her voice up as she began to dig through the tool box, "Jessie, can you get the crane over here?" she asked.

"Sure," Jess replied, moving over to get behind the crane to push it into position. Meanwhile Kay, who had finally resolved her tool issues started working on the grate to pop it open so they could remove the engine. With a strained grunt, Kay managed to pull the grate off and cast it to the side - the one that Audrey and Whitney weren't on thankfully - and grabbed hold of the crane hooks. She then turned her gaze to the engine below her, slowly going; "Uhhhhhh…" as she seemed to be looking for where to put this thing. "Here!" she chirped, leaning down. Jess couldn't see where she was putting it, but she heard a loud _thunk _as the hook sounded like it snapped in place. Then for the other ones, Kay did the same with the other two auxiliary hooks that hung from the crane, hooking them somewhere on the engine. "Alright… crank it up, slowly."

Jess nodded, waving to the side for Kay to scoot away from the engine compartment. Once she had, Jess took her place at the crane's side, placing her hand on the manual crank. She half expected this to be a nightmare to haul up, but, thanks to the sophisticated pulley system the crane used, it was only half a nightmare. She groaned as she slowly rotated the crank. It actually scared her, using the crank to life this hunk of heavy metal out of the tank. She had an idea of just how heavy it really was and if she dropped it on someones foot, they could kiss it goodbye - there was no healing that after being crushed into a paste. Before she started to turn the crane, she made very well sure that she gave clean and concise warning to all around; Whitney, Audrey and anyone else that may have been in the vicinity that a heavy load was coming around. Once she was sure that the coast was clear, she started to turn the crane to the right and lowering the engine block slowly.

The thing was in need of some TLC, though a quick glance around at the other tanks revealed that it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been. Thankfully it had been spared from rust completely, thanks to the tarp that they'd found the tank under keeping it dry. Now, it wasn't shining light new, there was some scum caked to it and it was greasier than a wrestling hog. After wondering where the hell she'd gotten that simaly from, she stepped off the frame of the crane and did a quick up close inspection of the engine. "How is it?" Kay asked.

Jess went through as much as she could, she wasn't a mechanical expert, but even she could tell that one of the cylinders would need replacing. New plugs were an obvious requirement as well. That however was the extent of her engine appraisal skills. "I think I need a better eye to fully grasp what we've got here, but-" she paused mid-sentence, remembering something… "Oh! Whitney! Your services are required!" she called, looking up towards Kay as she called over to the other side of the tank.

Just a moment later, the bright red head of Whitney popped up over the tank. "You summon me master?" she remarked, her expression blank and her eyes fixated on a point beyond Jess. She could hear Audrey snicker from the other side of the tank.

Jess held out her hand and wagged two fingers at Whitney. "I need your appraisal. You're the mechanic here." this caused Whitney's little prank to fall apart faster than half the population after _the snap_… you know which one.

"Oh!" she cheered, her voice cracking a bit from the squeal of excitement. She disappeared behind the tank for but a moment before skiding out from the rear of the tank and skirting around to Jess's position. She clasped her hands, looking at the engine that had been hauled out of the back of the tank and was now suspended like freshly caught shark or whale. "Alright, I've got this handled." she said with now reserved excitement, "We're definitely going to need some new parts, we might need to scavenge some from the other tanks in the lower levels if we can't get our hands on any new ones." Whitney began to idly crack her knuckles one at a time, Jess could tell she couldn't wait to get to work on this thing with the way she rocked on the balls of her feet. "I'll see if I can get some of the other girls, or maybe some of the guys even, to come help pick a peck of parts to put in our panzers." she paused for a moment, "I didn't know what else to use that started with a _P_… so… yeah…" she quietly mumbled, momentarily losing her sense of excitement, though it quickly returned.

With the internal road to the supply depot up and running again, it would be a much safer trip down there now. Recovery crews might even be willing to help if they were still down there. Though, Jess couldn't help but think about the teens they'd ran into the other day, they'd probably had their little hideout ruined by Jess and her girls. You could smell them from the depot over. She chuckled slightly, shaking her head.

"What?" Whitney asked, noticing Jess's expressions. Jess shook her head again.

"Nothing, just thinking about something stupid." she offered back with a wave of her hand, it really wasn't important anyways.

Whitney just shrugged in response. "_Alrighty_. Tell you what, I'll deal with the engine, you go grab some drinks and snacks, preferably of the bagged or sealable variety. I'd straight up ask for something more hearty, but I'd rather not poison myself by consuming a painted pizza."

Jess rolled her eyes, "Fine, fine. I'll make a vending machine run." she conceded, Jess could have done with something herself, but Whitney was correct about potentially poisoning themselves. Given how green her mask had turned, the amount of paint fumes in the air gave reason to believe that leaving food in the open was a bad idea. She tore her mask off, turning about and making for the mess hall while Whitney started on the engine. Audrey was just finishing up the first layer of paint, so they'd have time to kill when she got back. A quick jog across the campus later and she'd find herself digging out enough coin to get a few drinks and snacks. Jess cursed quietly under her breath, they had Gatorade instead of Powerade. Yes there was a difference. One tasted like it was mixed with butter and the other was fruity, sugary bliss. She hoped the others were okay with it, but she herself decided if she was going to default to something like _that _why not just throw caution out the window - a Monster would suit her needs for now. Then, throwing a few baggies of pretzels and a couple rice crispy squares onto into her arms the began to make the trip back. She had just entered the motor pool when she heard a deafening explosion.

At first she thought that one of the tanks had exploded and for just a moment her heart sank… but then she realized something. The way the explosion had reverberated, the effect it had as the sound wave passed her lingered. It had come from _much _further than just half way across the motor pool. Not long after the carrier's siren blared twice in quick succession, the second of them drawing out much longer then the first. Jess furrowed her brow and ran past the row of garages, crashing through the fence gate beyond them and leisurely running past the line of trees that decorated the edge of the current level of the ship. She looked around for a way down to the pedestrian deck which was exposed just a level below, rows of benches and leisure areas evenly spread out along it. Finding the stairs she was looking for, she hopped down them, still carrying the goods, before depositing them on one of the collection of open-flat benches in one of the leisure areas. The half-circle that extended from the ship deck was lined with safety railing. Two sets of stationary binoculars were placed at the edge of the deck. Jess scanned the horizon. She was certain that the sound of the explosion had come from somewhere out there.

"Jessie!" she heard Kay bellow from behind her. Jess looked over her shoulder to see Kay, Whitney and Audrey follow her down, accompanied by a few of the girls that had been working on the tanks, including Rosehip, Erwin and Caesar, who still were unofficially part of their teams. "We saw you run past, what was that?" she asked.

Jess shrugged, "No idea…" she replied once they got closer, turning about to face them as they made their way down.

Whitney had stopped at the benches and snatched up a rice crispy square, peeling it open and taking a bite. Then, with a full mouth, she pointed out; "Well, there's a ship out there." she said, jabbing a finger into the distance.

"Huh?" Jess mused, turning back around, raising her hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun. She struggled to pinpoint where this mysterious ship was, eventually Whitney just stepped next to her, crunching in her ear and grabbing Jess's wrist, moving it towards where she saw it. Sure enough. Far into the distance, a slight silhouette could be seen.

"Aww, so there is." Kay mused, spotting it not long after Jess had. It was just a speck on the horizon.

"Wait…" Audrey began, she'd just picked up a bag of pretzels and had joined the three of them. "If that ship made that sound…"

"That's a big bang for such a small ship." Kay finished, causing Audrey to nod.

"How far out is it?" she asked.

Jess shrugged, she wasn't a daughter of Poseidon, she wasn't a nautical know-it-all. She stepped up to the binoculars, trying to center them on the ship in the distance. Once she did, she let out a sharp, long drawn out whistle. "That's a nice ship. It looks like some kind of old World War Two era battleship."

"Battleship?" Kay asked, her voice squeaking a bit at the final syllable.

"Yeah, looks kinda like-" she paused as she realized what angle the ship was at. It seemed to be on course towards them. It was definitely approaching. Furthermore, the model of the ship seemed strikingly familiar to her. She wasn't exactly a history buff, but even she knew what the terror of the atlantic had looked like. "Holy shit, is that Bismark?" It was definitely approaching. The silhouette grew in size and when Jess thought it was finished, it just kept on growing. She stepped back from the binoculars as the ship started to become so large she was unable to view the entire thing.

"Ho-Lee-Shit." Audrey mused, staring at the growing behemoth that approached them. The ship stopped about a mile out from The Eisenhower, but even so, it was clear as day that the giant ship across from them was larger than the Eisenhower. The gun turrets mounted in the middle of the gargantuan dreadnaught looked like they were meant to fire shells the size of small moons.

"Nein." said Erwin from the other pair of binoculars. "Der Rommel!" she exclaimed, sounding almost in awe. She swore the spiky haired blonde's legs were shaking.

"The Rommel?" Jess echoed, with the blanks being filled in by Kay.

"It's Germany's biggest school ship, dates back to the late thirties. Survived the Second World War and was set up as a museum in Hamburg, with it being renamed post-war to what it is now. The Germans reactivated it it seems." Kay replied, her voice flat. Jess found her lack of emotion on this matter a little strange, but being a very heavily American influenced girl, the thought of the King of the Atlantic making a comeback probably wasn't very well received by her.

"How'd it survive World War Two when Bismark didn't?" Jess asked, then to Jess's surprise, Erwin began rattling off… something, in Japanese. Jess had no idea what she was saying, but it wasn't like she'd have understood even if Erwin had chosen to speak in German.

"Huh… interesting." Kay mused, "They did try to sink it, but carrier based planes only tickled it and bringing in a fleet large enough to stop it would have left the english channel exposed to Operation Sealion. In terms of raw combat capabilities it could have leveled almost everything on the English Isles, but because of the size of the guns, it took an actual, full, twelve hours to reload. Top that off with having to bring it close enough to deal damage, which would have brought it within range of British land based heavy bombers and the full power of the British navy, it would have gotten maybe _one _salvo off before it was disabled by the British…" Kay translated, then went on to utter her own two cents; "So like most of the crap made by Germany in World War Two, it was physically impressive but overengineered and when you got down to the brass tacks about it, utterly lackluster in combat performance."

Apparently Erwin caught onto a bit of this as she shot back something in Japanese at Kay, then went off on another small rant. "Okay, okay… though according to Erwin it did serve a more useful domestic purpose, serving as propaganda back home. However those who were housed on the Rommel were severed from communicating with the Fatherland at the captain's own accord. Apparently he wanted to maintain radio silence so the British would have trouble tracking them. As a result, The Rommel's town grew during the war, separate from Hitler and Nazi influence…" she translated, eventually ending with; "...aaaand when the ship finally did return, it was functionally disarmed and allowed to continue service until ninety-one, not long after the West started their tankery hiatus."

Jess was really only paying partial attention, still far too enamored with the giant across from them. Still, leave it to the Erwin Rommel fanclub to know every detail about the ship. Erwin herself rolled her eyes at Kay's apparent indifference to her rant. Indeed, she didn't seem particularly captivated by it. The ship however was another story.

There was a nagging question in the back of Jess's mind however; what the hell was the Rommel doing here and why did the Germans reactivate it? Just because America and Canada had picked up tankery again? She was about to voice this, not expecting much in the way of a reply, though she didn't quite make it there as her curiosity was distracted by an ecstatic looking Rosehip, who while looking through the binoculars was hopping slightly on the balls of her feet and waving. "What are you doing?" she heard Kay ask.

"Well!" Rosehip started, "If you'll look towards the bow of The Rommel, you'll notice…"

"Oh! The Brits!" exclaimed Whitney who had taken Jess's place at the binoculars. When Jess asked for an explanation, she merely got; "The red jackets, they're a dead giveaway." she added, extending her arm and waving above her head. "They're right across from us."

The British on a German World War Two era school ship. Add that to the list of oddities that she didn't have answers for. She was sure answers would come in time, but that didn't make waiting for them any less obnoxious. "C'mon ladies, we've still work to do!" she exclaimed, starting to head back, grabbing her Monster from where she'd set it and cracking it open. Jess smirked, adding; "You too Prairie Dog." causing Whitney to tense up.

"Oh fu-"

* * *

**Meanwhile…**

Yukari flipped through the papers that Rosehip had given her, it was a lot to absorb in only a couple days and she was no doubt certain that she was going to mess up a few words, she was confident that her skills were at least adequate to get a slight conversation going. She looked up from the bottom of the watchtower, where atop, the guy in question stood, looking out towards the ocean with a hand sheltering his eyes from the sun. Another girl stood next to him, a little taller and with pink hair - ah, it was the Canadian commander.

Yukari gripped her papers tightly, tensing up and clenching her jaw, her breath was caught in her lungs and she just involuntarily held it in. "Guuuhh…" she finally exhaled. Just do it, what was there to lose? _"Uh, my self-confidence, making a total fool of myself" _she thought, but then the metaphorical devil on her shoulder chimed in with a; _"But you do that already." _she almost tore her papers up and ditched them on the spot. With a slight pout she sighed. _Just_._ Do it_.

Fine. She started making her way up the steps of the tower, taking the coiling steps to the top. She didn't even try to keep the noise to a minimum, there was no chance of that happening anyways with how loudly the steps creaked. So it was no surprise when she reached the top that both the Canadians were looking expectantly towards her. She gave a slight wave and hidden smile. The pink haired girl, looked to Jacob, but at this angle she couldn't see her face. She could hear her however, even make out most of the words she said. "I'll be going now." she said, bordering the edge of witty. Yukari could see the pink haired girl smirk as she turned towards her, giving her a wave as she made her way down the tower. Yukari nervously waited until the creaking of the steps stopped, then giving it another few seconds before finally opening her mouth, sure she was about to embarrass herself.

"H-hello. What are you doing up here?" she asked, trying her best not to stammer or stutter, but of course, given all factors here, it was inevitable.

Jacob seemed mildly surprised. "Wow. Uh… I mean, y-y'know, _wow_. That's… pretty goo-" he paused and furrowed his brow, diverting his gaze from her face to the ground in quiet contemplation… or realization? "What I meant to say is, _that_." he motioned out towards the side of the ship, causing Yukari to turn her head towards the sea.

"Ohmigosh!" she chirped with a slight jump, holding her hands up above her chest, clasped in excitement. "The Rommel! Germany's largest school ship ever constructed, laid down in 1930 and finished in 1938, miraculously surviving the war and going on to become Europe's more prominent school ship until the nineties!" she exclaimed, rattling off trivia reflexively. Some of what she said had been in broken english, mixed with bits of Japanese.

She heard Jacob lightly chuckle from her right, she hummed in confusion, lowering her arms, resting her hands atop the tower railing. Jacob shook his head. "Nothing, it's just I've never met someone, much less a girl, with such an… intricate knowledge of military tech. I'm just… impressed is all." he said, then paused, pursing his lips and seeming like he might have been second guessing his words; "Err… I mean, not that it's a _bad _thing, like that is, y'know, girls can know and do whatever they want, there's no difference between-... I… I'm gonna stop talking now before I make a bigger fool of myself." he finished, dejectedly.

"I- It is okay." Yukari replied, "I think I understand what you mean. It is just less common. I know what that feels like. Back home, I was found to be very much enfuse- enthuse- enthusiastic! Enthusiastic about tanks. The Rommel was one of the best Western Sensho-do practicers. I am amazed to see it working again."

Jacob chuckled again, "It was Yukari, right?" he asked, looking back out towards the ship across from them, leaning against the railing with the palms of his hands.

Yukari nodded, "And, Jacob, yes?" he turned his gaze from the ship to her, nodding back.

"Yeah," he pushed off the railing and shifted his eyes to the side, then furrowed his brow.

"Thinking of something?" she asked.

Jacob shook his head, "Kinda, just something I heard about." he momentarily glanced back out towards The Rommel. He then shrugged, emitting a slight huff out his nose. With a nervous scratch behind his head, he extended his other hand slightly in a polite manner, motioning towards Yukari. "And, I just heard this, so… y'know… I dunno if anyone has wished it to you yet, but… happy birthday Yukari."

Yukari's eyes widened. She wasn't entirely sure what to think. On one hand, it was the first time she'd heard someone say that today, on the other, she didn't know how he knew that and found it just a tiny bit creepy… buuut back on the first hand, that he'd found out and actually cared enough to remember to say it… well, that meant something, didn't it? She cracked a slight smile. "Thanks." she replied. "No one else has said that to me today."

"Really?" Jacob mused, hand still clasped onto the back of his head. "Well… why don't we go into town? My treat. Then we can… maybe hit the range afterwards if you want?"

Yukari was less enthused by the former, more so the latter. "Oh! Yes!" she chirped, she wanted to fire some of the guns! That would be so awesome! She'd gotten to fire his rifle a few times when they had first met, but having more time with that sexy, sexy hardware… she could think of a few ways to describe how that made her feel, none of which were PG-13.

She followed him down the steps, freezing at the bottom as he did, to see his sister casually walking away from the tower with her hands clasped behind her back. Either she was a slow walker, or she'd been eavesdropping. She was pretty sure it was the latter, a sentiment also shared with Jacob as he exclaimed; "Damn it Jen!" towards her, shaking his fist in the air.

The pink haired Canadian threw her head back and emitted a faint laugh, flashing Jacob a quick peace sign over her shoulder without so much as turning around. "One of these days…" Jacob mumbled.

Yukari couldn't help but quietly giggle. Oh the woes of an only child.

* * *

**Meanwhile…**

Jess and Kay walked down the line of newly painted and de-rusted tanks. Jess had just received a message from her mother, their next match was to be an interesting one, a two-vs-two match with the Americans, French, Canadians and British, teams hadn't been announced yet. They'd be docking at a French port called Le Havre and make their way towards the course they'd be fighting on, a course that was set up just outside the city where the longest continuous battle in history had taken place. Verdun. Jess inhaled sharply. The battle was to be the first tankery action broadcast live on television in thirty years. Yeah, the first battle between America and Canada had been streamed, but that was different. She grappled with how to break the news to her teams. For now, callsigns, she'd think about it while they went through what everyone chose.

Each of the tanks sporting a new coat of green paint and the white symbols that went hand in hand with American armor of World War Two. Of course, with the exception of Rosehip's Crusader. Though a few additions had been made to almost all but one of them.

Kay followed with a notepad and pen in hand as they inspected the tanks and identified the animals that the teams had chosen for their callsigns.

Mary's Jumbo had been painted with a small armored xenarthra. "Given how much armor this fella is lugging 'round, I din't see th' harm in goin' with Armadillo."

With a nod, Jess looked over her shoulder at Kay, who jotted down the callsign on the note pad, slowly mouthing. "Arrr… maaa… dilloooo…"

Moving on to Kate Mclane's Chaffee. It was pretty clear what animal they'd gone with. "The Stallion, such a quick majestic creature… but a kick from it's gonna knock all your teeth out… and y'know… prob'ly kill you."

Kaiwi's M4A1(76)w Sherman; "The Dolphin is one of the most fascinating and lovable creatures out there. A boon to sailors and the scourge of sharks, it's the perfect creature to protect us."

Ramirez's 76er of the same variety; "I'm not sure if the Jaguar is actually the name another tank uses, but… I mean, c'mon, it's a bad ass big cat. Quick and deadly. Kinda like this baby." she explained, giving a knock on her Sherman's hull.

Rosehip, who was still unofficially part of the American team right now, with her Crusader MkIII; "Ocelot, I mean… look at it!" she chirped, "It's so cute! It's literally a kitty sized leopard!" Jess chuckled slightly, while everyone else so far had intricate, spiritual or practical reasons behind picking their animals, Rosehip's was just because it was _cute_. Which to be fair, was as good a reason as any. It _was _adorable.

Alisa's M4A1 Sherman now with bandicoot; "I dunno… I just saw this one and was like… _yes_. This lil' guy is perfect for us."

Johnson's M4 Sherman; "Swordfish… I just picked randomly." Jess pursed her lips, hearing Kay snicker quietly.

The same was to be said for Naomi's _woodpecker_, applied to her M4A3(76)w. "Oh, by the way, Naomi, I'm going to need to talk to you later." Kay said, lowering her notepad, getting a confused look from the no-nonsense tank commander.

"What about?" She asked, blowing a gum bubble immediately after, not terribly large but the snap it made was a little jarring.

"Err, personal questions, I'll tell you more later." Kay replied, getting a shrug and nonchalant acknowledgement from Naomi.

"Alright then." she replied.

Lastly was Jess's Easy Eight, they'd passed Miho's Panzer IV, since it was keeping the Angler Fish callsign. Jess walked around the tank to where Whitney had painted it, right below a small American flag sticker that Audrey had slapped onto the tank's hull. "Honey Badger don't give a shit. Lookit it, see how many shits it doesn't give?" Whitney remarked. Jess couldn't hold back the approaching scoff. It was good, she approved.

Once all callsigns were assigned, Jess and Kay returned to the front, between the lines of tanks. "Alright everyone, form up!" Jess called, beckoning the girls over. She was about to break the news to them, hopefully get their spirits up and pump them up for the coming match when one of the girls, Jackson, from Mary's team asked; "Why exactly are we using all these animal names again?"

"Well, we all picked radio callsigns, this will help us keep the tanks in line." Jess explained.

"And crush the enemy teams with our scary zoo animals." Audrey commented, clearing her throat and bellowed in a pathetic, cowardly french accent; "Merde, un Honey Badger!" getting a round of chuckles and laughs from the surrounding girls.

"Hey, Swordfishes are plenty tough, this one time, my uncle Riley got his hand speared right through with it's…" Johnson interjected, though she faltered towards the end, stuttering with uncertainty. "Uhhh… is it a beak? And what was yours again?" she asked, turning to look towards Rosehip.

"Ocelot." she stated, "Hey, they're cute but they'll steal your socks."

"Alright, alright, listen up." Jess interrupted, trying to bring attention back to her and her encroaching announcement. "I don't really do speeches, that was more of my mother's thing. But in a couple days we'll be disembarking in France, there's a match planned between us and three other contingents. We'll be dividing into teams of two and fighting near Verdun. Now I can only expect that we'll be in for some period conditions, that means mud, mud and more mud. So enjoy what pristine hygiene you can now, for we're going into a snapshot of what hell must have been like for those fighting in 1916 and 1917. That being said, whoever we're up against, I fully expect us to hand them a through ass kicking, just like we did when we came knocking in 1918. Am I right!?" she finished, raising both arms above her head in an attempt to get them pumped. It seemed to work to some extent as she was met with the majority of the players around her cheering in response.

"Alright! Dismissed, we're done here for now, all that's left is to let the refit teams touch up the armor on some of the older tanks." she announced, with a wave of her hand, dispersing the crowd.

Jess sunk her hands into her pockets when she felt a clap on her shoulder, she looked over to see Kay standing just behind her. She could see Audrey and Whitney charging off towards the school gate beyond her, she peeked past Kay at them with a raised brow, wondering where they were off to. "C'mon, let's head over to Karl's, my treat this time." and Jess wasn't going to complain with that.

"Wait, we should probably hit the showers or something first…" Jess suggested, their uniforms were caked with grease and their faces lightly marked green, white and black from the paints used while recoating the tanks.

"Hmm, right, that's… probably a good idea." Kay replied, nervously scratching behind her head, "Getting a bit ahead of myself I guess."

Jess chuckled, waving her off. "It's fine." though she had to ask what Kay meant by that last part. Mentally at least, she wasn't about to vocalize her curiosity and sound like an idiot.

One fanservice scene later and a change of clothes into something more casual and the two were on their way to Karl's. Kay, back in her Saunders uniform and Jess in a graphic, slanted crop-top that hung off one of her shoulders a little and plain old skinny jeans.

Emerging from the showers, Jess noticed Kay give her a once over. "Wow, not the style I expected from you." she commented, what could Jess say, she was a bit of a punk at heart.

"Problem with it?" Jess quipped back, playfully of course, sticking her nose up in the air and huffing slightly.

"No, not at all, it's cute!" Kay replied, getting Jess to drop the act. She was sure her face went a little red at the compliment.

"T-thanks." she stammered back, forcing herself to maintain a smile, despite how embarrassed she felt. "C'mon. Lets go."

Kay nodded, following behind as the two made for the school gate. On the way to Karl's the two noticed Yukari and one of the Canadian boys on their way back from… Jess guessed a Coldstone or something, given how the two of them had ice cream in hand. "_I thought soooo_." Kay sang quietly. They far down the street from them and were too engrossed in their conversation that she doubted that either of them had noticed the two girls at the other end of the road.

Though when they eventually got to Karl's, Jess was even more surprised - not really - to see Audrey and Whitney already there, though what really got to her was what was on the table next to them with eighteen candles lit and sunk into it.

The three of them; Kay, Whitney and Audrey all cheered; "Happy birthday Jessica!" her face definitely went red this time. She hadn't seen her mother today, so all she'd gotten was a text wishing her a happy birthday. This was infinitely better. She clasped her hands over her mouth, masking her giddy smile.

"Omigosh, thank you!" she exclaimed happily.

"Thank Kay, she was the one who told us and set _this _up." replied Whitney, who motioned between Kay and the candled tuxedo cake. "On that note, _perfect _choice in cakes." giving Kay a pinched thumb and index finger hand gesture; _choice_.

Jess glanced over at Kay, curiously. "Really?" She was still glad that someone had remembered, but she never remembered telling Kay when it was.

Kay nodded. "I was speaking to your mother and she brought it up." she replied, "So, as our team and overall commander, I figured, you deserve this." she added, smiling back. Jess swore she was a little pink in the cheeks, but she was probably at least somewhat as nervous or embarrassed as she was.

"Well… thank you Kay! It really means a lot to me." Jess said, looking back towards the other two girls. "And I still want to thank you two as well, for showing up."

"Think nothing of it!" Audrey chirped, with Whitney tacking on, while shooting Kay a slight smug glance;

"Really, this was mostly Kay's doing."

Kay waved both hands in front of her, her face definitely gaining a pink hue to it now. "No, no… it's just-"

"You're overreacting." Jess commented, clapping her on the shoulder. "But seriously, thanks." she wasn't sure why, but if she hadn't been given this birthday reception by Kay, she probably wouldn't have minded. But… for some reason she couldn't quite put her finger on, that she _did _find out and put the effort in to giving her this… she felt lighter because of it. She really, truly found an appreciation for it that exceeded her expectations. She clasped her hands below her waist. No, it couldn't be that she felt… Kay was a girl. She was a girl. The thought entered her mind for the first time and she actually faced it down now. Was that what she felt? She'd never really thought of the possibility of her being into other girls. She knew that she had an interest in guys… but…

She lowered her gaze and chuckled quietly to avoid drawing any more attention to herself, she'd figure it out. She was sure of it.

"Alright, you two, enough awkwardly staring at the ground, c'mon, the cake isn't going to eat itself." Whitney remarked, getting Jess out of her stupor and apparently Kay as well. She wondered just what she'd been thinking about. Something similar perhaps? She shoved the thought out of her mind for now. She'd cross that bridge later, for now, festivities.

"Alright!" Jess chirped happily, sitting herself down at the booth and waiting for the others before blowing the candles out. "Gimme the knife, I want the chocolate straws" she added, giggling. The awkward nature had all but evaporated for now, it was just the close comradery of her and her crew, nothing more. She'd sort her feelings out later… when the time was right.

* * *

**Meanwhile, The same day, Somewhere in Siberia…**

Mishka, Pollie and Vera had been issued a week of detention and were just now getting out… under one condition, courtesy of Colonel Badanov.

"This suuuuucks…" whined Vera, posing in front of the camera crew that had come to take photographs of the Russian tankery teams for advertisement. The three of them were being forced to wear tight leather crop-tops, hot pants and knee high combat boots along with their blue berets. Mishka sighed slightly, holding the AK12 she posed with pointed up along her shoulder while kneeling in front of the two other girls.

"I know, but we wanted out of the Gulag early, didn't we?" she commented, not even trying to hide the tongue-in-cheek jab between it and detention anymore.

To her rear left, "I'd rather have been in an actual gulag than be subject to this." Pollie grunted, holding a black SVD-M Dragunov Sniper Rifle propped up against her hip, hand on her opposite hip while the sniper barrel pointed up towards the sky.

Then, to her rear right, "We're essentially posing for pinups…" Vera commented, quietly, forcing herself to maintain her neutral expression while she stood with an RPK-16 pinned between the back of her neck and raised forearms, looking all _hot_ while the photographers took pictures of them.

As Natalia would have put it, these pictures, of which she'd even partaken in, looking reminiscent of a certain Soviet sniper from the Command and Conquer series, were needed to fill their need for paint sponges. Boys, it brought in boys to serve as grunts and infantry for their war games.

This was their punishment. It could have been worse, Mishka had heard of teams that had been sent out into the Siberian wilderness by Natalia, given a few days of supplies and were told to spend a week out there, foraging and surviving. If they made it back, they were forgiven, if they tapped out, they were expelled from the tankery school.

Though Mishka was fairly certain that would never happen to her or her crew. Natalia would _never _admit this openly, but she needed Mishka and Nisha, she needed the blue and white to her red. It may not seem so to a newcomer, but the Russian camp was horribly divided. There was Natalia with her hardline Reds, essentially players who glorified the Soviets. Nisha with her more old school Whites, the smallest faction within the Russian camp, but these were the ones who remembered and studied the days before the Bolsheviks. Tsarists, one might call them. Then finally there were Mishka, with her Blues. The blues were by far the largest faction in the Russian camp. These were players who rejected Soviet influence and were more… for lack of a better term, modern. Many saw the current Russian president as their savior and enjoyed what they saw as a more lenient political state - at least, by comparison with the Soviets. With all that said, it could be seen why Natalia needed the loyalty of Mishka and Nisha, the de facto leaders of these factions, in order to keep the peace. For all the talk of unity Natalia did with regards to their western opponents, she seemed to always skip on this matter. They were not nearly as unified as Natalia seemed to state.

Now, while the Blues definitely outnumbered the Whites and Reds, even when put together, they were the least… motivated, when it came to a change in leadership. Slow to act, but if they were to get worked up, there is no doubt that things would come crashing down around Natalia's ears. The Whites however, were easier to rouse, but, they were even smaller than the Reds, meaning they simply couldn't do anything without the help of one or the other. As such, it was clear as day, Nisha did her best to maintain neutrality between the Reds and Blues, not appearing to favor either side… at least openly. That way, if push came to shove, the Whites could align themselves with whoever they deemed fit.

Mishka groaned and stood up, the photoshoot coming to its end. "Can we change back now?" Vera whined.

Mishka pivoted on her heels, it wasn't snowy out right now, but there were patches of snow here and there. "Yeah, get back into your normal-" she started before hearing someone behind her, clearing their throat.

She pivoted back around to see Nisha standing there with her full white dress uniform, adorned with medals and her officer's hat atop her head and a cavalry saber resting at her hip which she rested a hand atop.

"Come, Natalia wants us in the tower." Nisha stated, causing Mishka to cringe.

"Can I at least change first?" she pleaded.

"Do you want to make Natalia wait even longer after all that has happened?" she asked… she had a point. Reluctantly Mishka conceded, waving up towards the tower for Nisha to lead on. She followed the white officer across the wide open tarmac in the middle of the base, the same one that she'd been racing the T-14 around the other day.

In the distance as they crossed the pavement, one of the boys sharply whistled at her, she could tell by the beret he wore he was a Red. "'Ey! Lookin' fine there!" he catcalled… Nisha narrowed her eyes and Mishka scoffed and without even pausing to contemplate whether or not it was a good idea - it was - she leveled the AK-12 she was holding and fired off a few rounds at him.

The Red boy squealed and fled, flailing his hands in his air as the rifle barked a few times at him. "Good boy!" she yelled after him, patting the rifle in her hands. She then noticed Nisha looking back at her in surprise. Emotion, how quaint.

"They're blanks, it's fine." she commented, "You think they'd give us live ammo for the shoot?" she added, walking ahead of Nisha. She didn't get any more catcalls thrown her way after that. Yeah she could be cute at times, but when she dealt with bullshit like that, you were getting shot, end of story.

The two climbed the stairs to the command tower, entering without pause as Natalia and… someone else… were already waiting for them. The new comer had a noticeably Asian appearance to her.

"Colonel." stated Nisha as she entered, making her way to the table, across from the Asian girl. Said Asian girl however had her eyes glued to Mishka, appearing to be in a state of confusion. She looked over at Natalia.

"Is this normal?" she asked, in heavily accented Russian.

"Long story." Natalia replied, waving her down. "Ladies, this is Colonel Li Xiu Ying, we're planning our first international practice match." she explained.

Li nodded, "It is fascinating, we would be most honored to have our first international match against the Russians. China will not disappoint, I hope." she then looked back to Natalia. "Colonel Badanov, will you explain what the plan is, in the greater scope?"

Natalia nodded back, "Indeed I will. While the West scrapes together their forces to build a team to compete against us, we will meet them with our own coalition. China has already agreed to support us and we're hoping to get more support from Mongolia and Uzbekistan. There are possibilities of getting help from Iran and Iraq, but we've yet to send anything their way."

Mishka put both palms against the edge of the table, contemplating this… plan. She wasn't entirely sure they needed the help of most of those mentioned. Sure, China would be a great help, but she couldn't wonder if these _alliances _were an effort to extend some kind of political influence. A sort of _"we cool" _statement. "When is our first match going to be?" she asked.

"Next week. We'll be throwing our own local practice match tomorrow to get ourselves loosened up for it." Natalia replied. Mishka nodded. "Oh and Mishka…"

"Huh?" she looked up from the table.

"Go change into your uniform, for Lenin's sake." the jab was laced with copious amounts of smug-sass, dripping with it more like. Mishka resisted the urge to flip her C.O off. That would just make things worse. She just gave her signature whine and sighed. Still, even if there was to be a match tomorrow, she looked forward to it. Who knows, maybe she'd get to knock out Natalia's tank and stick it to her. But… that'd probably make her just even more pissy… yeah… would it really be worth it, she wondered.

Yeah. Definitely worth it.


	10. Operation: Roulette

**Big Russian Boi comin' at 'cha!**

**(Also, Chapter 1 has been changed as of 21/05/2019 - the final section where it showed Ooarai getting the overseas request has been changed to Saunders getting it. A few small changes were made to some of the chapters between to accommodate this, but nothing significant)**

* * *

**June 7th, 2019 - Siberia, Course 14S-B**

Mishka raised her binoculars to her eyes as she stood half out of her T-72B3M, dressed in a beige, olive and khaki woodland style ACU, her blue beret tilted slightly atop her silver haired head. Technically this variant of the tank was a 21st century model, buuuut since the T-72 was fielded in… well, '73, actually, it managed to squeak past the game's rules. The tank may have been a nice upgrade, over the standard T-72, which was the mainline battle tank that her blue team of thirty six used for nineties matches, supplemented by As, BAs and B3s and various other designations. But even so, the additional power did nothing to protect Mishka and her team from the simulated heat that beamed down on them from the ceiling of the underground facility they were practicing in. The course they practiced on was mimicking the Mongolian steppes, the kind of arena that the Russians expected their practice match against China to be in. Nothing but grasslands for miles with the occasional range of hills and cliffs. Engagements could be anywhere between the one and three kilometer range in these open fields, so she had to keep her tank crews constantly scanning the horizon for targets.

This was a threeway annihilation match and while war game rules were always in effect as usual, there was no accompanying infantry, simply due to the ineffectiveness of non motorized infantry on these vast grasslands. It would be a pure, tank on tank slug fest. Mishka scanned the horizon, two sets of hills ran perpendicular towards the center of the course, creating a choke point in the middle. From studying the map, she knew that on the other side of those hills were another pair of hill ranges. From the air, the course would look like a giant crosshair. The only defining feature of the map were the ponds that occasionally dotted the landscape, linked by rivers that collected in the middle, creating a ring around the only place one would find suitable cover, a small rural town lacking any tall buildings.

Mishka knew that the first objective of her opponents, Nisha's White Team and Natalia's Red Team, would be to take the town. Nisha's team was the smallest, only twelve tanks, but was equipped with the most modern tanks in order to offset the difference; T-80BVs. Natalia's Red Team however, while still smaller than Mishka's Blue Team at twenty four, fielded mostly T-55s and T-64s, though she knew that Natalia's personal command tank was her ultra rare O-279, or _Object-279._ A nuclear tank. The only one that the soviet union ever designed.

"Major? What are your orders?" asked one of her tank commanders via radio. Mishka looked to either side of her at her wing commanders in their T-72B3s. Snapping out of her brief trance, she raised a hand to her headset. She didn't mind losing to Nisha, but she'd be damned if she let herself be defeated again by Natalia.

"Smirnov, take your platoon west and up the hills, my platoon will follow behind at your flank. Popov, you will head down the middle, put your BAs or As in front, use their smoke screens if you need to, but I want you to tie down any enemy forces that enter the town. Smirnov and I will circle 'round, we'll catch 'em with their pants down."

"Da Komandir!"

"Da Komandir!" both of them chipped back enthusiastically.

Mishka smirked, she'd show Natalia and her Reds what it meant to be Blue. "_Vse tanki, vydvinut'sya!_" she ordered; All tanks, move out! Operation: Roulette was a go.

All three dozen of blue team's tanks roared to life, ready to get a move on. "What shall I put on Komandir?" asked Vera from within the turret, she could feel her leaning over, hand groping for the radio.

"We usually do Sabaton, but why don't we mix it up a little?" Mishka replied, "You pick this time."

"Oh you're going to regret that…" Vera whispered into her headset, "Tuning to our music channel… aaand…"

Quietly, so as not to interfere with orders, her headset began to emit a rapid flurry of guitar strums followed by a bit of clapping and _hey-hey-hey _chanting before; _"There lived a certain man, who lived in Russia long ago; He was big and strong, his eyes a flaming glow…" _Mishka facepalmed, cracking a smirk as the tanks began to gain speed, falling into formation at 60kph, or about 37mph. _"Ra ra Rasputin, lover of the Russian queen; there was a cat that really was gone!" _even though the lyrics were in english, Mishka could see a couple of the tank commanders that were standing out of their turrets singing the chorus whenever it came by, bopping a little to the beat. She chuckled again.

They were fast, fast by comparison to their World War Two comrades. Once the platoons had gotten closer to the hills after a few minutes of rolling, the three wedges broke off from one another, with the front most wedge of a dozen tanks, Blue C, heading straight for the town in the center. Blue B and A however veered left, heading for the hills south west of the town. Mishka had her Blue A platoon slow down to put some distance between her unit and Smirnov's, also ordering her tanks to spread out more, to have at least a fifty meter spread between each individual tank, about the same distance as an olympic swimming pool.

As they reached the hill, her turret hardly shook when it hit the incline as the tank decelerated suddenly and began to climb, as unlike the older T-72s in her team, her B3M variant sported the improved 2A46M5 125mm gun complete with sabot rounds, which came with the sophisticated 2E42-4 stabilization system, even more advanced than previous iterations, allowing for accurate fire even while moving at high speeds. Other upgrades to her tank when compared to the vast majority of the other T-72s under her command included thermal sights which were only found on B3 variants, while her B3M was unique in that her commander's sight, was not only now fully panoramic, but also had thermal and night vision. In addition, smaller improvements were made to the tank's drivetrain, engine, fire suppression systems and mine protection. But the biggest upgrade over the older, non-lettered models, was the addition of _Relikt_ ERA - Explosive Reactive Armor - bricks along her tank's hull and turret and more advanced targeting systems, along with about a dozen smoke canisters mounted atop the turret. That meant her tank should - in theory - actually be able to take a hit, given that there was one very troubling flaw about the T-72…

At the top of the hill, Mishka saw what she thought was a recon force of Natalia's, two T-55s and a T-64, painted a light khaki just like her tanks, the only difference in color scheme being the two red stripes painted along the sides of the hull and along the turret, as opposed to Mishka's blue stripes. Mishka barked into her radio, putting on her game face; "Red armor at the top of the hill! Engage! Engage!"

Thanks to actually being on the hill, Mishka's T-72s were actually able to strike back as the Red tanks opened fire on them. It was twenty four against three, they'd either be destroyed or forced to flee. If they hadn't made it to the hill however, it was bound to have been open season on the T-72s, since the gun had abysmal vertical traverse, being only able to raise thirty degrees. One of Mishka's T-72s scored a hit on the rear of a T-55, the engine block detonating and bursting into flames and the white flag popped up above the turret. The red crew began to bail out of their tank, one of them throwing an emergency fire blanket over the flames in a vain attempt to put the fire out before they jumped off their tank with Tokarev TT-30 pistols in hand and ran away from the armored skirmish taking place.

Oh, right, that flaw that the T-72 had, other than the shitty gun elevation. The two older tanks began to make to flee, but not before the T-64 threw a vengeful shot towards one of the regular T-72s, striking between the turret and hull, piercing. Sparks began to fly out from the tank, violently. She heard the scream of the tank crew as they realized what was about to happen, they had a split second to decide whether to brace the coming storm or bail. They seemed to chose to weather it as the middle of the tank exploded in a fierce fireball, the turret of the tank being launched at least two to three meters into the air before coming crashing down next to the now turretless T-72, the middle of the tank now a raging inferno.

Mishka immediately jumped on her radio. "B4! B4 come in! B4 check in now!" she wailed, for a moment fearing the worst. She may not have had the time to personally hang out and get to deeply know each of her Blues, but they were her comrades. "Blue B, continue on, kick those red asses back down the hill! A1 through A4, hold, I'm checking on B4. The rest of you continue on."

"Affirmative." replied Smirnov, her eleven remaining tanks and eight of Blue A's tanks pursuing the fleeing Red tanks. Once the majority of the attacking tanks had passed, Mishka ordered her tank closer to the wreck of B4, clamoring with one of the turret storage compartments on the exterior of the dome, opening it and pulling out her med-kit. She leapt from the tank as it began to slow down, with tanks A2, A3 and A4 taking position nearby, their commanders also emerging from their tanks with their first aid kits and rushing towards the burnt out husk of B4.

It was a tense few moments, running towards the burning wreck when Mishka's headset crackled to life. B4's Commander, Katarina Mikhailov coughed into her personal radio, "This is B4…" a pained groan followed, "we're singed and bruised, _eeurgh…_ but still in one piece." despite that, the tone of voice Mikhailov used didn't put Mishka at ease, it just went to show, even with all the safety precautions that they implemented into tankery, injury was still a very real possibility.

When she and the other commanders reached the tank, they found Mikhailov and her driver Aneta Petrov sitting against the lopsided turret that had slipped off the edge of the tank and was now wedged into the soft earth below. The two had an unconscious Ushka Vasiliev laying across their laps, with Mikhailov propping her up with a battered arm.

Upon seeing this Mishka grew a thick lump in her throat, she swallowed hard and pressed the receiver on her headset, sending a message back to the referee camp. "Medic! We need a medic out here!" she cried, rushing forward to check on the wounded crew." she slid to her knees as she reached the three singed girls, pressing her fingers on either side of Vasiliev's neck, checking for a pulse and much to her relief, finding one still going strong.

"She hit her head when the turret came back down, I think she may have a concussion." Mikhailov groaned out.

Mishka looked up from the unconscious gunner as the other commanders reached the tank, some of them having been followed by their drivers or gunners, forming a small crowd around the burnt out T-72. "And you?"

"Singed, bruised, might have a fracture or two." she replied, turning her head to look at Mishka, forcing a grin. "Nothing I can't handle."

Her girls were casual, real nice company to have around back at base, but they were also tough. They were no pushovers or wimps. The training regiment they had made sure of that. They were no Spetsnaz, not by a long shot, but each of them that had made it this far knew how to deal with pain. There would be no shed tears without the most grievous of wounds. They would grin and bear it. Or at least try to. As she was adjusting Vasiliev to allow one of the other tank commanders to apply first aid to her, she elbowed her driver in the chest.

Petrov screamed out in pain, sharp and short, shaking slightly as she reflexively put a hand over her chest, only causing herself to clench her eyes shut, choking back tears. "T-t-thanks!" she chirped with no cheer. "You just revealed to me… that my burns may be worse than I thought."

Where the hell was the damn medivac?! If Natalia were here, she'd probably do the barebones minimum and remind them that they were not the Wet Noodled West. Russia would not abandon tankery just because of some injuries… so what if a few players died, they did in every sport! Be that as it may, it didn't make it any less emotionally painful to see her comrades, her friends, in such pain, all because of a _game._

"Oh! Ambulance is on the way!" remarked one of her commanders.

Standing to her feet, Mishka could see in the distance, speeding across the grass fields a white ambulance with its lights flashing as it raced towards them. More like ambu-semi. It was a double length heavy transport with one section of the truck dedicated to carrying a portable on its back to serve as a mobile infirmary, while the back was open and flat, with a heavy but short crane for collecting tank husks. Once it was close enough to begin slowing down, eventually stopping, three pairs of army medics climbed down from the portable infirmary, rushing towards the ruined T-72 with their heavier medical supplies.

The medics shooed the girls back, they needed room. All three of the medics produced a strong shot of painkillers that they administered to the wounded girls, or at least the two who were conscious; morphine or something of the like. They then helped them up, with one of the female medics picking up the unconscious gunner with both arms while two of the male medics did the same with the other girls. If it hurt, they either couldn't feel it, or didn't care anymore thanks to the painkillers. The lead medic gave Mishka a wave. "We've got this, return to your tanks." before turning to his comrades and ordering them back to the mobile infirmary.

Hesitantly, Mishka complied, turning about and ordering the rest of her girls back to their tanks. The four commanders rushed back to their tanks and Mishka re-tuned her radio back to her command signal as she climbed back into her T-72B3M. She tuned back in mid sentence.

"-destroyed the tanks, but there is no sign of the other Red tanks." said Smirnov. Mishka cocked a brow, then they had to have already been in the town.

"Blue B, take all the tanks you have on hand and head into town, A1, 2, 3 and 4 will make their way along the top of the hill and provide tactical overwatch" she replied.

"Affirmative! Moving now!"

If they were in the town, perhaps Blue C had gotten wind of them. She hailed Popov, "Lieutenant, status, have you located either of the opposing teams?"

"Negative, Major. We're holding on the edge of town now, should we enter?" Popov replied.

"Da, but move carefully. If Nisha is already in town, she will most likely be using buildings to hide her smaller numbers. Blue B has yet to encounter Red Team, so it is most likely that they too are also somewhere in the town. Expect close quarters combat." Mishka relayed, getting an _affirmative_ from Blue C's commander. "I will have Blue B enter town soon, once they cross the river, they will try to meet up with you."

And with that, she ordered her four tanks forward, her T-72B3M accompanied by two T-72As and a T-72AV, the only difference between the two models being the AV was equipped with _Kontakt-1 _reactive armor bricks on its hull and turret. At the top of the hill, which ran the length of the course from the edge to almost the center, giving Mishka and her tanks a straight, high ground path towards the town, Mishka could see the entirety of the fields on either side of her. She ordered her tanks along the high ground in plain sight, knowing that most Russian tanks had issues with their vertical traverse and the likelihood of her being shot at was fairly slim unless her enemies were coming right up at them. At least from here she could call out danger if she saw it for Blue B and C. Yet curiously, still nothing. It was like Nisha to use guerrilla warfare, but Natalia wasn't one for stealth, often using heavier tanks and numbers when the match allowed for it, to overwhelm and overpower her enemies. Not so much this time… where was she?

Through the entirety of her journey across the hilltop, not a single spec of red or white could be seen, aside from the burnt out husks of the T-55 and T-64 that Blue B had scrapped initially. What was Natalia up to? Eventually she had to force her quartet of tanks to a halt as they ran out of hill top, now overlooking the town below. Not a single tower in sight, just rural housing, car lots and a few junk yards. Even so, it was fairly expansive. Raising her binoculars to her eyes, Mishka scoured the town, searching for a sign of conflict. Then she thought she heard something… she removed one earmuff of her headset. Gunfire. She looked towards the sound, lowering her binoculars as she saw a flash in the town streets. There they were. She raised her binoculars again, peering towards the flash. Six red tanks were caught in a bottleneck between a junkyard and thick cluster of houses against the river. They were trying to brute force their way through the street, crushing civilian cars under their tracks as they advanced on a house at the end of the street. Inside the garage of this house was a khaki T-80 with white stripes and reactive armor bricks decorating it's hull and turret. One shot from the T-80 knocked out the front T-64, the engine detonating as the rear of the tank caught fire, forcing the red girls to bail and the white flag to pop up atop its turret. Mishka chuckled quietly to herself, it was a turkey shoot for that lone T-80. The older T-55s and T-64s were unable to close the distance to do any real damage against the T-80's reactive armor.

"This is Blue B, we're crossing the bridge into town, we'll form up along the opposite side of the river before entering town." came Smirnov through her headset.

"Affirmative. I've spotted six - well, five-" another T-55 was hit by the opposing T-80. "Err… four now, Red tanks on the north side of town engaged with Nisha's forces. Still scanning for the other fifteen remaining red tanks." Mishka replied, looking to the south of town to her Blue C team, already across the bridge on their side and slowly entering town in a sort of wedge formation, wherever the street patterns would allow them. A flash of red caught her attention from just south west of them. Six Red tanks, three T-64s and three T-55s were trying to sneak around them, one of them exiting the town and running along the river.

"Blue C, you've got Reds on your left flank." Mishka warned… oh, oh one of the T-55s made the mistake of getting too close to the hill. Mishka noticed one of her T-72As move forward, getting an angle on the hill to it could actually line up with the thing.

"Affirmative, engaging." Replied Popov. Speaking of…

"Fire when ready." muttered Mishka quietly into her headset. Only two seconds later, tank A2 fired its powerful 125mm D-81TM smoothbore gun, the armor piercing round slamming into the rear of the tank with a thunderous crack, followed by an explosion as the engine detonated sending shrapnel up into the air behind the T-55. Fire spewed forth from the engine and the flag above the turret signaled the tanks' destruction. The red girls bailed from the tank, one of them pulling out a small fire extinguisher to douse the flames before they ran off into the town to hide from the fire fight that was surely to come. "Clean takedown." Mishka remarked to A2's commander.

She saw Blue C turn to engage the now severely out gunned Reds. They had tried to pull a little sneaky on them… and failed miserably. Mishka couldn't help but laugh, either Natalia was going soft, or her stubborn Red Army bravado was playing to her detriment right now. She saw another T-55 go up courtesy of a 9M119M Refleks laser guided anti-tank missile fired from Popov's T-72BA.

How were the Reds on the other side of town doing? Blue C had everything handled. She raised her binoculars up to her eyes, looking back towards the Red-White engagement. Huh. It was just one T-64 now… but the husks of another T-64 and two T-55s remained in the middle of the road. Where had the other T-64 and T-55 gone? She looked back up towards the T-80, sheltered in the garage. It still had ammo, as it took a pot shot at the heavily entrenched T-64, hiding among the husks of it's fallen comrades. Then she saw, just to the left of the building the T-80 was hiding in, a building, right next to the river, the missing T-64 and T-55 crawl out of the river, soaked to the tred and with snorkels up. The T-55 took point and with the elegance of a cat - a big heavily armed cat - crept up to the edge of the garage the T-80 was hiding in, lined up a shot at near point blank range, aiming through the wall of the garage and fired.

The front of the T-80 sparked… nope… that hadn't quite done it. The reactive armor on it had taken the brunt of the impact. The turret turned to return fire… it didn't get that far. The T-64 sped right past the T-55 and lined up a shot near identical to where the T-55 had placed its and fired a second round. The round found its mark, sparks flew from the T-80 and the left caterpillar was detracked. The front of the tank smoked and a small white flag popped up over the White tanks' turret. Impressive teamwork. Though, if it really took six Red tanks to take down just one White tank, with a favorable knockout ratio for the White tank, Then this match was already in the bag. Still though, using the river to sneak around was ingenious. Most Soviet era tanks had the ability to traverse through and under rivers thanks to their snorkels. It was an ability developed due to a perceived Cold War event, wherein if the Cold War went hot and Russia was to invade Europe, it was suspected that the Western Allies would blow the bridges across many rivers. Saying such, Russian tanks needed ways to fjord these rivers, preferably without having to rely on waiting for bridge-layers to come up to the front, just to let them continue their advance. They wanted a fast, lightning war. Sound familiar?

Mishka lowered her binoculars… looking towards Blue B, which had now formed up in a wedge, ready to move into the town and clear out Nisha's White Team. Though half of Red Team was now disabled… where the hell were the rest of… them…

Something slowly began creeping into Mishka, a realization. The rivers. She was too late to realize this. She could virtually hear the heavy metal Soviet Hell March as the missing nine Red Team tanks emerged from the river behind Blue B's position, their guns trained on the lightly armored rears of their tanks. They didn't need shiny up to date guns to hit their marks proper this time. Of the nine tanks, Mishka saw Natalia's command tank, her Object-279 Nuclear Tank. This weird AFV was a relic, a curio of a time past. The hull looked more in line with the cockpit of an American Blackbird spy plane than a tank. It looked almost alien in shape. As if that wasn't curious enough, but the tank sported quad tracks, rows of tracks all along the bottom of the vehicle, leaving no space between the leftmost and rightmost tred. This tank was one developed with nuclear war in mind, its shape, its armor, were all intended to protect the crew from the shockwave of a nearby nuclear blast and fighting in a nuclear hellscape with chemical, biological, radiological and nuclear protection.

The tank fired its 130mm M-65 rifled gun at Smirnov's command tank, hitting it square in the back. The engine detonated, rattling the tank. The last thing she heard from Smirnov's tank radio was a short, cut-off; "Blya-" before static. With their field commander down, the rest of Blue B and what was present of Blue A, individually turned to return fire. But it was of little use as Natalia's ambush had worked like a charm, cutting through Blue A and B. "Blue B, Blue A, pop smoke and push into town, make for Blue C!" Mishka exclaimed

One of Blue B's tank commanders radioed back, "R-roger! But… how do we find out way?" she asked, none of the surviving T-72s would be able to see if they popped their smokes screens without already being on the move.

Mishka lowered her binoculars and ducked back into her tank, shutting the hatch behind her. She reached up to PK PAN sight, looking through it and turning the camera nestled inside the armored box atop the turret around to look down towards Blue team's position. "I'll walk you out." Mishka replied, turning thermal vision on, her view lighting up black and white, with the tanks below her lighting up white, while the surrounding area was less so… though the heat from the arid setting they were in made it a bit washed out.

"Popping smoke!" exclaimed the Blue B commander, "Where to?!"

"Blue B and A, turn your tanks ninety degrees right and full forward, A1, 2, 3 and 4 will meet you at the south river's edge and lead you to RV with Blue C. A7, you have a hostile on your right, turn turret to 3 'o clock to acquire, confirm." she pulled her gaze from her commander's sights and tuned her radio to her escort tanks. "A2, A3, A4, load sabot rounds and prepare to cross the river to meet up with the remnants of Blue B and A. Gunners, fire at will."

Mishka could hardly believe it. She'd fallen for one of those classic blunders. Not paying the _fucking _attention! fourteen of her superior T-72s taken out by only nine older T-55s, T-64s and a weird blackbirdy boy. She wondered how Blue C had fared… she turned her panoramic sights towards C's location, even as her own tank started racing down the hill. She could feel the thump of the tank's gun rattle the turret and reverberate through her. "WOO!" Vera hooted loudly, "GOT ONE! They're running scared Major!" Vera chirped. Good. "Two more two more T-55s and a T-64 have bitten it…" she paused for a moment, another _thump _from the gun. "Make that three T-55s. Major, all the Red T-55s have been knocked out. It'll be just T-64s from here on out. They're fleeing for the north western side of town, following the river." at least the Reds didn't get out of this without a scratch… but right, Blue C.

Mishka nodded with approval to herself as she saw the remnants of Blue C, they'd lost two of their older T-72 base variants to the six Red tanks, which looked like they'd begun to flee mid fight, exposing their weaker rear armor. The three T-55s and three T-64s were strewn out, four across the field between the river and town, while a pair of them had been knocked out in the actual town. Mishka could see where rounds from the T-72s had pierced right through houses to hit the Red tanks in their weakly armored sides and rears.

"Commander, seal up, prepare for underwater maneuvers." said Pollie through her headset. They were approaching the river. She made sure everything was sealed and that emergency oxygen was on standby.

"We are green across the board." Mishka replied as the tank slowed down upon reaching the river's edge. The tank slowly inched forward, tipping down as it began to lower itself into the waters. Eventually, the tank was completely submerged. For a moment, there was this scary, tense putt of the engine as it sounded like it stalled, or hydrolocked, had they stopped moving? Mishka peered through her PK PAN sight, just murky and muddy waters, thermals didn't help much, but turning it on, she could tell that the other three tanks were keeping close. They were moving, so surely they must have been as well, however slowly. It was stressful, knowing that there was even a slight possibility her tank could stall out and they'd have to bail from underwater. It was a tense few minutes as her tanks made the crossing, eventually, much to her relief, making it to the other side. She breathed a sigh of relief as she felt her tank begin to ascend, climbing the river bank before finally; "Underwater maneuvers completed." Pollie said.

Mishka peered through her PK PAN sight, making sure the coast was clear. The smokescreen to her left was still strong and she could see the first of her T-72s emerging from the smoke. Her escort tanks had also managed to successfully cross the river and were falling in behind her, water still rolling off their hulls, mudding the ground beneath their treads.

Once the remnants of Blue B and A closed in, Mishka emerged from the turret. Mud still clung to her tank in thick patches. She leaned over, pushing the commander's machine-gun and blast shield out of the way as she wiped off some of the mud covering the blue stripes on her turret. She didn't want to get accidentally shot by her comrades. Once that was out of the way, she raised a hand to her headset. "Blue Team, prepare to enter the town, the Reds' strength have been cut in half, but the Whites are still at nearly full strength. Also, be on the lookout for Red foot mobiles that bailed their tanks. They may be carrying anti-tank grenades. Take it slow and have machine guns at the ready."

All of Blue A and B formed up near Mishka's command tank while Popov took Blue C into the town near where they had crossed the river. Mishka would have the remnants of Blue B enter from here, while her Blue A would enter the town somewhere between C and B. They would form an unbroken wedge of tanks to drive out any Reds or Whites in hiding. "_Vse tanki, vydvinut'sya!_" she called out… and they pushed into town.

The roads were barren, occasionally peppered with debris from prior matches in the form of stray bars of metal, piles of rubble and craters blown in the road from exploded shells. Most of the buildings were in decent condition, though a few hadn't been touched up and were in various states of ruin, with a few of the houses having been completely leveled thanks to tanks being driven through them. The artificial lighting above them was starting to dim, simulating the onset of dusk. The time was being accelerated, she guessed that they would turn on the moonlights to simulate night soon, given how long they'd actually spent on the field.

Mishka sighed, opening the top of the turret mounted DShK 12.7mm heavy machine gun and pulling a string of bullets from a box mounted just next to it, loading the first round into the machine gun with a click before shutting the top of the gun and cocking it with a satisfying _chck-chk_.

"Komandir!" exclaimed someone to her right. Mishka tensed up, turning the machine gun towards the sound, almost ready to pull the trigger when she saw the blue beret atop the brown haired head of Natasha Smirnov. Smirnov yelped and ducked back behind the ruined wall of the house she hid in.

Releasing a long drawn out sigh of relief, Mishka followed up with a slight chuckle, leaning forward onto her machine gun with a shake of her head. "Natasha, come here." she beckoned, rapping on the top of her tank's turret. "Pollie, hold." she communicated into her headset.

Looking down on Natasha and her crew, who emerged from the ruined house, Mishka noticed how lightly armed they were. But more importantly; "Are you girls alright?" she asked.

"We're a bit singed and bruised, but nowhere near as bad as A4 got it. Though we didn't exactly have time to recover our weapons before bailing." replied Smirnov. That was fine, Mishka didn't think she'd need her weapons for a while anyways, if her tank got knocked out then that was pretty much it in her mind, game over.

Mishka leaned over the turret, straining to reach for one of the storage compartments nestled between the turret, sitting atop the edge of the hull. With a huff of hot air she groaned and gave up, climbing out of the turret and sliding down to get a better angle, catching herself with her heels before sliding entirely off the tank. She cracked open the little locker and produced a pair of AK-47s with folding frame stocks along with several banana magazines of ammo. She handed these to Smirnov, who gave one to her driver. She then swung around the turret to stand on the back of the tank, about to kick open the turret's rear locker, but then thinking better of it. She knelt down and unlatched the lid, opening it up and producing two pieces of an RPG-7. They'd have to put this back together on the field. She handed it down to Smirnov, who handed the pieces to her gunner. "Oh and don't forget." Mishka added, handing the grounded crew three warheads from the locker for the RPG. "Do you need extra medical supplies?" she asked, noting the bruises and singe marks Smirnov and her crew possessed.

Smirnov shook her head. "You may need them more, just in case Komandir. We sting and are sore a little, but it is manageable. Appreciate the thought, but you keep them." she insisted.

Mishka slowly nodded her head. "Alright. If you see Natalia's _Objeckt_, do not hesitate." she said, standing and climbing back into her turret.

"Da Komandir!" Smirnov barked back. "Come comrades!" she beckoned her crew to follow, the three of them ducking back into the ruined building they'd come from, she could faintly hear the back door open as they emerged from the back of the house and passed from sight. They were on the move, Mishka should keep going as well. She turned to face the front of her tank, bringing her HMG around and keeping an eye on the road. "Pollie, forward." she ordered, occasionally sweeping her gun across the rooftops and over the rare second story windows of houses.

Then she saw something. The barrel of a tank began to emerge from around the corner of an intersection. She held fire, until she saw the colors, she couldn't be sure. Then the treads began to appear and Mishka saw a white stripe running the length of the T-80Bs hull.

"Contact front! T-80A!" Mishka exclaimed, Vera lining the gun up with the side of the T-80, which now had passed enough to see the full turret of the tank, with it's commander up and manning the machine gun. The White commander heard Mishka's exclamation, looking to her left, down the road at the approaching T-72B3M.

"Shit!" she yelped, bringing her HMG around and opening fire at Mishka's tank. Mishka quickly ducked back into the turret, reaching up and bringing her own HMG around to about where the T-80 was and blind firing back from the safety of her tank turret. Her T-72 however already had the opposing tank in its sights, before the T-80 could turn its main gun onto the Blue Team tank. There was a muffled _thunk _from within the turret, while a ringing blast echoed in from the outside. Impact and the machine gun from the White tank stopped firing. Mishka peeked up from out of the turret. The machine gun was empty, the White tanker seeming to have ducked back into her turret. She held fire… the side of the T-80 now sported a black scorch mark where the T-72's round had impacted, for a moment she wasn't sure if it was a kill. Then the White commander popped back up from her turret to see Mishka aiming right at her. She squealed, grabbing her machine gun… then. _Ping, _followed by a hiss. The white flag shot up right next to her, causing her gaze to shift awkwardly to the signal of her tank's defeat. "Blyat!" she exclaimed, then remembered something… she nervously looked back at Misha just across from her.

Mishka smiled back at her… and then pulled the trigger, putting a blue paint round into the White commander's chest, taking her down instantly as she slumped against the top of the turret. The turret of the T-80 was turned to about 9 o' clock, so Mishka wasn't surprised when the drivers hatch of the tank sprung all the way open, allowing for the driver to bail out much quicker than usual without the gun in the way. The gunner had managed to get out of the tank and dove to the ground with a painful thud, trying to scramble away but to no avail.

Mishka gunned her down, safely atop her tank, the machine gun rattling as it spat about a dozen rounds at the White driver, dropping her to the ground with a new coat of blue paint on her back. Mishka paused for a moment, the gunner of the T-72 seemed to be taking her sweet time getting out, given that there was an unconscious commander blocking the hatch. She ducked back down into her turret. She wasn't sure what kind of game Nisha was playing, at least, White Team would be down two tanks now. "Komandir!" her radio screamed. "Blue C here, we have engaged White Team, two in a junkyard and one in a garage! We lost a T-72A to mines, they've dug in Komandir!"

This must have been the game she was playing at. A few of her tanks patrolled the streets while the rest fortified their positions, after all if she was small in number, putting the most amount of cover between her tanks and _their _tanks, would have been a smart move; taking choke points and power positions. This was going to get dirty. But before her tank could move again she had to clear the road.

"Pollie, dismount, Vera, keep us covered." she ordered, climbing back out of her tank, with the driver's hatch below her popping open, Pollie climbing out. The two of them brandished their Makarov pistols as Mishka slid down her turret and onto the road. She beckoned Pollie to follow her as the made her way up the road. It looked like the other White girl hadn't emerged yet, so she ordered Pollie to keep her pistol trained on the T-80 turret just in case. Mishka crouch-ran towards the front of the T-80, kneeling down next to it, pressing her shoulder against the side, she peered down the left side of the intersection in accordance from where she'd come, all clear. Further straight down seemed to also be clear and the right, from where the T-80 had come was also clear. She needed to clear the White casualties out from the road so her tank could move on, unless they wanted to take another road, but the last intersection was several blocks back. Seeing that it was clear, Mishka emerged from behind the tank and holstered her Makarov, bending down to hoist the White driver into her arms, dragging her to the side of the road and propping her up against a house wall. She then synced back up to the ref's channel. "Major Sorovich, reporting casualties on the road at my point, requesting retrieval team."

"Affirmative Major, evac is en route, continue on." replied the referee. With that, she rejoined her previous channel, shooting a glance over at Pollie to her left, who had climbed up onto the T-80, her pistol aimed at the turret hatch.

"Pollie!" Mishka called out, only to get the Blue girl to hold a hand up in a _one moment _fashion, while her other held her pistol towards the hatch. She took a step forward and Mishka could see her shut one of her eyes as she aimed down the sights of her pistol.

"_Chert_!" exclaimed someone from inside the T-80 before Pollie put four rounds into the hatch.

Pollie then lowered her pistol and jumped back down from the tank. "Annihilation match, remember?" jogging back towards their T-72 and climbing back onto the tank hull and slipping through her driver's hatch. Mishka sighed lightly, shaking her head. True, true enough. She stood back up, confident that the White driver would be safe here, jogging back to her tank and climbing up and back into her turret. "Pollie, forward."

By now the Blue tanks on her flanks would have passed her, but she'd heard nothing so far from the rest of Blue A or B. "Blue teams, check in." she called into her headset.

"Blue C, still engaged with those T-80s, lost another T-72, BA this time. We've knocked out the toughest target in the garage though and I've ordered four of my tanks into the junkyard on the flank we opened up, we're going to try to flush them out." replied Popov… then an explosion rang through the headset, it was muffled on her end however. "_Chert_! C9 reports another T-80 dug into _another _garage at the end of the road around the corner of the last T-80. Tactical analysis; they've dug in at every street corner and intersection around here. When we take out one strong point, there'll be another covering it."

"Popov, send a couple of your tanks the opposite direction around the junkyard, I need you to confirm something for me, I'm curious as to whether or not they've formed a defensive perimeter." Mishka replied, if her theory was correct that meant that junkyard was a valuable position for them… there was only one reason that could be.

"Affirmative, sending recon now. Will report as soon as I can. Out." Popov said, dropping transmission.

"Smirnov here, we've rejoined Blue B but we're mostly an infantry platoon now. According to B8, there was a run in with Natalia's Objekt and she took out another two T-72s. We're down to four tanks now. Most of us are only armed with pistols, but we managed to salvage a few AKs and three RPGs from tank husks." Reported Natasha.

"Copy that," Mishka replied, come to think of it, infantry could prove very useful in these rural streets. "Natasha, do you have any AT-grenades?"

"Uhhh…" Natasha came back, "Let me do a quick inventory…" she replied, which basically meant, as Mishka found out by being ear rapped, Natasha just bellowing without pausing to mute her mic; "DO WE HAVE ANY AT-GRENADES?!" Mishka's headset crackled and shrieked with static, a muffled response followed, at least Mishka thought it did… her ears were too busy ringing for her to fully make out that follow up sound. "Da Komandir, we have about a dozen."

Mishka had sunk down partially into her turret, forehead planted against the rim of her hatch. "Wonderful." she replied, blunt and without joy through grit teeth. "Ok, then I've two orders for you. Take your unit around the north side of town, then hang a right back into the center of town towards the junkyard in the middle, I want your infantry to clear out the buildings; many White tanks have taken up residence in their garages, use those grenades and your RPGs to flush them out. If they're too busy protecting the roads, you should be able to sneak up alongside them and chuck some grenades into their hidey holes."

"Affirmative Major… and the second?" Natasha asked.

Mishka cleared her throat; "_CYKA_, DON'T SCREAM INTO THE RADIO!" she hollered.

She heard Natasha squeal on the other side of the radio, it was a pitiful sound, followed by a whining; "D-da Komandir!"

With a sigh, Mishka relayed further orders to her Blue A team. "Blue A, begin to head east towards the central junkyard, we'll reinforce Blue C and attack from the flank. Finally; this goes out to all teams. Watch out for Natalia's Reds, they've taken heavy loses, but they're still kicking out there. If we're not careful, we could get caught in an October Threeway." she ordered, with Vera chiming in from below her in the turret.

"Sounds like a good time." she remarked, causing Mishka to roll her eyes. She sank back down into the turret, shutting the turret, relying on her PK PAN camera for now to keep an eye on things.

"Only if you like a Bolshevik uprising." Mishka replied. She then tensed up and jabbed a finger across the turret at Vera. "Don't say it." she tacked on, seeing the potential for a dick joke there and striking swiftly to prevent it.

And so in silence, her tank rolled on, meeting up with other tanks from Blue A while en route towards the junkyard. Down the road on either side of her she could see other T-72s spaced out per intersection. In total there were five avenues of approach towards the junkyard, meaning five blue tanks would be able to enter the road around the junkyard at the same time when they reached it. Checking behind her, she saw another Blue tank following her, a T-72BA, judging from the reactive armor bricks it sported and the pair of anti-tank missiles bristling atop the turret.

She turned the PAN sight back to the front, they were approaching the junkyard perimeter road. She needed that recon from Blue C now. Then she heard the report of a tank gun firing, followed by a muffled explosion that reverberated against her turrets exterior. That answered her question. "Blue C here, one of the recon tanks was just KOed!" exclaimed Popov.

"A4, go up a few blocks and use your judgement to find the corner of the junkyard perimeter road, then roll through those houses and put a round into the corner house garage." Mishka ordered.

"Da Komandir!" A4 replied. Panning her camera to her left, down the road, Mishka could see A4 turn up the road, slowing down as their commander popped up from the turret. She could see the commander pointing at the houses as they passed them, tilting her head as if to try and make out the road on the other side of the houses. She then jumped a little and pointed directly at a house several blocks down from Mishka's position. A4's commander sank back into the turret, which turned 180 degrees to face the back of the tank, the T-72BA turning and pushing forward, rolling into the house before it. Mishka saw the house start to give in, the roof collapsing as the tank crashed through the house walls. Then the tank stopped, she could see just the rear of the tank sticking out from the house, A4's turret pivoting back around to the front… a few moment passed before the tank shook and the sound of the tank gun's report reached her ears. A fireball shot up from beyond the rows of houses that were between Mishka and the supposed location of the T-80.

"Target down!" barked A4. "Moving forwa-" a loud crash and static followed and Mishka saw the house that A4 was sheltered in collapse as a round slammed into them. The house fully collapsed, allowing Mishka to see a white flag pop up from A4. Then a new radio synced up to Mishka's coms, A4's personal radios. "Enemy armor taking shelter behind old junkers at the edge of the junkyard. Don't think there's any getting through here without a fight."

"Affirmative, Blue B, Blue C, report." Mishka confirmed, then going in for a sitrep.

"Blue C, half my remaining tanks have been diverted to the eastern outskirts of the junkyard, they await orders to commence attack." replied Popov.

"Blue B, we've taken out the T-80 that was giving C trouble. Took some losses from machine gun fire from the junkyard, but all our tanks are still in working order." said Smirnov.

"Alright, Blue A and C, attack the junkyard with everything we've got. Blue B, act as our rearguard, make sure the Reds don't interfere."

Both of the other platoons confirmed. The attack was a go. Five T-72s emerged onto the junkyard perimeter road. Immediately they came under fire. A round slammed into the front of one of A's T-72s, putting it out of commission. Vera however was quick to return fire, a round from her 125mm gun slamming into the turret of the defending T-80, it wasn't a kill, but the tanks' reactive armor was heavily damaged and the crew seemed to panic a little, pulling back from their firing position. From the south, Mishka could hear Blue C engaging with the remaining White defenders.

"White defenders down! Moving in, sustained casualties!" exclaimed Popov.

Mishka and another of her tanks entered the junkyard. All sense of order then went out the hatch, there was no rhyme or reason to how the scrapped junkers were stacked, some of them precariously teetered, threatening to fall over. The dirt paths that wove through the yard had no logical convergence point. It was a maze. Now there were still points, plenty of them, where one could just look across a low wall of junkers and see another tank, fire and be done with it, but that one mountain of cars in the middle gave cause of concern. Upon entering the junkyard, Mishka could just make out the mock administration building in the middle of the yard, beyond the rows of junkers. It was a small, almost firehouse looking structure with dual garages. She furrowed her brow, the garage doors were shut.

"Vera, put a round into the garage over there, just to be safe." she ordered.

"Which one commander?" Vera asked, as the two garages were on either side of the structure.

"The closest one." Mishka replied, the extra penetration would be needed to deal any real damage against anything within. The turret rotated into position and fired, a round clearing through the garage cleanly like a needle through silk. Okay, maybe not so elegantly, but about as easy.

Light shined through the hole they'd made… there was nothing in there. Then the opposite garage had its doors kicked in. A T-80UM-2 rolled out from the garage. Its commander half out of the hatch.

"Nisha's Command tank!" Mishka exclaimed, "Aim, aim and fire!" she bellowed, but it was too late. Nisha's T-80 lobbed a round at Mishka's T-72, hitting the turret squarely. But… the round was absorbed by her tanks reactive armor. Now they could return fire. "Fire!"

Vera lobbed a round at Nisha's tank only for it to have moved out of the way as she had pulled the trigger. "After them!" Mishka ordered. So caught up in the chase that she didn't realize her headset had been blaring for the last minute.

"KOMANDIR!" Smirnov screamed into the mic, destroying Mishka's ears yet again. But it if it got her attention…

"What?!" she barked back, a little peeved now. This was the second time in less than an hour that Smirnov had violated her ears.

"God! I've been trying to get your attention! But now that you're listening-" she started, only for Mishka to raise a brow… was that-

An alien shaped tank plowed through the junkyard administry. Yep… that was the Soviet Hell March. The turret of Natalia's Objeckt rotate towards Mishka's T-72. "-well, the Reds broke through, we've kinda been wiped out. All six of their remaining tanks are entering the junkyard now… we did manage to take out three of them."

"Gee thanks!" Mishka exclaimed, not having time to be polite and closing communications. "Pollie! Move!"

"Okay, hold on." Pollie replied, turning the tank right towards the mountain of junkers.

"Wait, what are you doing?!" Mishka yelped.

"Trust me! Vera, fire at the cars! HE round!" Pollie barked.

Not knowing just what else to say at this point, slightly panicking, Mishka just nodded to herself. "Okay, yeah sure why not?"

A round from her tank slammed into the mountain of cars just as Pollie hit the gas. The HE round causing the car it slammed into to jump up just as Pollie wedged the tank under it and floored the engine. Mishka's eyes widened. She was burrowing under the friggin' cars! Mishka heard a round from Natalia's Objekt hit behind them… either the ground of some cars, she couldn't tell, she was too busy hyperventilating as her tank's hull creaked under the weight of a dozen-plus tons of aluminum. Only regaining her composure when her tank emerged on the other side of the mountain of cars, with Nisha's T-80 zooming past them, taking another hit to its side from one of Blue Team's tanks from the south, but surviving.

"Holy shit! You're insane!" Mishka finally wailed, finding her breath.

"This is news to you?!" Pollie replied, with mock surprise. Though… a creak from behind caught her attention. Mishka tried to look through the PAN sight, but found that the weight from all the cars had rendered it inoperable. With hesitation, she pushed out from her hatch and her jaw nearly dropped. Maybe it had been worth it to escape Natalia's Objekt, but the under-car burrow had severely damaged all the reactive bricks on the turret, torn the machine gun off, ripped up the snorkel and stolen her PK PAN camera, armored box and all! Then there was that creak again… she looked behind her and screamed, ducking back into the tank as the teetering mountain of cars began to collapse. She slammed the hatch shut behind her as cars began to flow past her tank. "MOVE, MOVE!" she screamed at Pollie who gunned it.

Her tank climbed up onto a nearby smaller hill of junkers, crushing most of them beneath its treads… resulting in said hill being more of a slight rise. This was good enough however as the mountain of cars spilled out into the junkyard, creating a junker wasteland. Once the ruckus had settled down and she was sure no cars would fall on her, Mishka re-emerged from the turret, surveying the catastrophe. Nothing but brown metal. For a moment she wondered where everyone was… then several tanks emerged from the landslide of aluminum and steel, crushing junkers and car frames alike under their treds… now… now it was a clusterfuck in the middle of a sea of rusted metal. Everyone was exposed, the admin building was gone, either collapsed or buried under all that metal. But now was the time. She saw her goal. Natalia's Objekt began to emerge from under all that rubble.

"Vera, ten o'clock!" Mishka exclaimed. Then without her direct orders, Pollie gunned the engine, rushing towards Natalia's tank. "And the craziness continues…" Mishka muttered, but closing the distance would held with her shot's penetration. Natalia's tank was still climbing out of the rubble, its gun pointed into the sky. Before the tank could level out… when it did, a loud crack and squeal could be heard, the metal underneath it being flattened, Mishka's tank was already within fifty meters. The Objekt began to turn its turret, but it was too late. "FIRE!" Mishka bellowed and around barked from her tank's gun, impacting the side of Natalia's weird looking tank. The round connected with the tank's turret, smoke and sparks flew from the tank… then a white flag popped up from the Objekt's turret. Mishka held in her jovial squeal, though in her head, it was party time. _"Take that Natalia!" _she bellowed in the recesses of her mind. _"Fuck yeah!"_

Then she remembered the match was still on… she quickly scanned her surroundings, spotting the burnt out husks of the rest of Red Team, flags waving above them. A couple of her Blue tanks seemed operational still, maybe three, with a single White tank left. She flinched. It was Nisha's tank and it was bearing down on her. The guns report didn't even register with her before the round struck the back of her T-72, causing a fiery explosion which rocked Mishka's world. She grasped onto the turret for dear life, sinking down slightly… then… with a pop and a hiss, a white flag shot up from her turret. She cursed quietly in her head. Oh well, at least she'd gotten the pleasure of taking out Natalia. But it was an annihilation match. It wasn't over till two teams were completely out cold. She reached down for her Makarov, getting ready to jump out of her tank.

"'Ey! Mishka!" she heard from her left, tensing up and pointing her pistol in the direction of the voice. Natalia had emerged but all she heard after that was the rattle of her PPSH-41 as she fired indiscriminately at her, painting her tank red. Mishka bailed out of her tank and slid down it, intent on clinging to the side of the turret for cover, she had no intention of jumping down onto the sea of rusty metal below her for fear of getting cut by that gross looking metal. The last thing she wanted was tetanus. She managed to grab hold of her tank's hatch. She was about to swing around to the back of the tank, was in the process actually, when suddenly her vision blurred… then darkened. She hardly had time to register she'd been hit in the face, or spit out the toxins she'd gotten in her mouth. Then she fell, fell right into that sea of metal she'd been trying to avoid. She didn't even register the pain she'd have felt when the jagged metal cut into her. She didn't even register the replying hail of sim rounds that answered Natalia's, nor did she register who carried her off the field…

* * *

**Somewhere in Siberia, date unknown...**

The first thing she saw when she finally came back too was blinding light. For a moment she thought she'd died, but the faint beeping that reached her ears - a sound that should have frightened her - brought her back to reality. The first thing she felt was pain, dull pain, but a persistent pain. No matter where or how she moved, she felt her abdomen groan in pain… than and her mouth was horribly dry, she could feel her tongue cracking slightly. Then an urge hit her… her stomach churned and she leaned over, yet to have sat up. She felt a hand grab her around the back of her head and pull her to the edge of the bed she realized she'd been laying in. At the edge of the bed she looked down, spotting a yellow bucket… then it happened.

"Herk-blauugh!" she tossed her cookies into the bucket, a sludge of red and pink… for a moment she thought she just puked up blood!

"Easy, easy…" said a calming voice, but it was one she recognized. She wiped her face and looked up. It was Nisha, her long black hair tied into a ponytail. She wore a toned down version of her White Army uniform, no hat or sword this time, no shiny medals either. "It's alright, you've been in and out of it the last twenty-four hours. They've inducing you to expel as much of the toxins you swallowed as possible… guess there's a little bit left." her tone was soft and soothing, not like how she usually sounded; collected and firm. It was how Nisha had spoken to her while Natalia was still asleep that one morning in the tower, when she'd offered to get her hot cocoa and a new coat, after Natalia had stolen hers. "On that note…" Nisha resumed, reaching over to a table next to Mishka's hospital bed, her hand returning with a glass of water. "Drink, you need to re-hydrate." Mishka quietly grumbled, she was right, but even though Nisha was only a year and a half older than her, she was acting like her mother. Actually, that's a lie, more like a nanny.

She began to sit up, groaning in pain, but man, that water was really appealing, so much so she'd bear the pain just to sit up. It was then that she noticed the bandages wrapped around her arms and her abdomen. She herself was only donned in her underwear, the same that she'd worn during the match. She pulled her blanket up a bit , covering her lower half, though upon flexing her legs a bit, she could feel bandages around her thighs and calves as well. "While you were out, they gave you over a hundred stitches." Nisha explained, causing Mishka's eyes to widen. "How's your vision by the way?"

"A-... a bit blurry." Mishka stammered out. _Over a hundred stitches?_ "B-but I can see."

"Good… good. Doctor said you'd make a full recovery, but you'd be out of commission for a few weeks." Nisha said, raising her hand to offer Mishka the glass of water again. _A few weeks?_

Mishka looked back at Nisha, taking the glass of water and before going any further, downing the whole thing in a matter of seconds. _Oh_. That was good. Good _fucking _water. "A few weeks?" she asked.

Nisha nodded… she'd miss their match against China. She pounded, "Damn it…" she muttered.

"So… you still want to continue?" Nisha asked, tilting her head slightly.

Mishka nodded. She did. She wasn't going to quit tankery just because of some injuries. She was Russian. It would take more than a sports injury to get her to quit her number one activity for the past two years. "I'm sticking with this." she affirmed. But she had to ask… "How are the others?"

"There were two dozen hospitalized injuries this time. Most of them were minor, a stitch here or there, a concussion or two, only two were serious, one of them being yours." Nisha replied. Someone else had been injured just as badly as her… "The _other _is across the hall…"

"W-who?" Mishka asked.

Nisha chuckled once. "Natalia." she replied, "After eating several dozen rounds from my machine gun." she paused. "She didn't fall off her tank, but she'd probably damn near a tranquilizer overdose…"

Mishka cracked a slight smirk, she snickered quietly, causing her to wince, putting a hand over her abdomen. "She deserved that." she remarked in a whisper.

"After the sportsmanship she showed, I'd be surprised if they left her in command…" there was a tense pause for a moment… then Nisha sighed, "Who am I kidding, no I wouldn't be." as ruthless as Natalia was, something was keeping her in power. Either strings being pulled behind the scenes, or perhaps the head of Russia's Tankery Federation actually thought she was just the best commander he'd seen… it was unclear. "Anyways… get some rest Piroshki. I'll check on you later, but if you need something." she raised her hand, producing a small walkie-talkie, setting it next to Mishka. She then gave her a quick wink… that made Mishka smile. As hard-assed as Nisha seemed, even though she was part of another of Russia's tankery factions, she still cared about those who she ultimately fought alongside. It warmed her up inside. Knowing that at least two of the three major officers here actually gave a damn.

"Thank you Nisha." she whispered, feeling a bit drowsy.

The black haired girl nodded back. "Don't mention it… I'll see you later." she said, turning to leave, exiting the room and leaving Mishka to nod back off. She was still disappointed, upset she wouldn't be participating in the Russia V. China match… but she found some solace that the Red bitch across the hall, just might not be either. That was enough for now. With a yawn, Mishka finally drifted back off. She huffed out her nose, easier said than done… the beeping was making things difficult. She really wanted to shoot that damn heart monitor right now.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I know it was pretty much all action.**

**Anyways, quick update; I added a content roadmap on my profile, it's still a work in progress, but the next two fics I plan on writing are up there. Included are also subjects that I'd be interested in writing about, so if there's nothing you like on the roadmap, but you see something that I'm willing to write about that you're a fan of, by all means shoot me a PM to request something. I may be able to come up with something!**

**But if you liked _this _then please, add it to your favorites and follow the story - or me if you find anything on the roadmap interesting. Also, if you've the time, please leave me a review, letting me know what you like, or, didn't like. Almost all feedback is helpful in some way or another, either letting me know what's good, what's not so good and even just letting me know whether people are enjoying what they're reading. (Or not...) Just a quick review expressing potential curiosity helps. **

**And thus concludes my bout of self-promotion. Hope you have a fine evening-morning-night-day-afternoon-whatever.**

**Till next posting/post chapter rant!**

**PS: I draw the line at tanks going the speed of souped-up sports cars, but bullshit like Mishka's T-72... yeah, that's fine.**


	11. Life, Love and Loss

**Sorry for the delay, it's been a hectic week; wedding and moving plans are all coming to a head. For a heads up, but I'll go more into it later, I won't be posting for two weeks some time in the middle of June due to the move, but hopefully I'll still be getting stuff onto paper.**

* * *

**June 8th, 2019 - Le Havre, France**

Kay stood next to Naomi on the gargantuan pier that was housing The Eisenhower and Rommel on either side of it. The colossal aircraft carrier and battleship towering above them. They stood closer to The Eisenhower however, having to stay off the road while supplies and tanks were unloaded from the ships, moving to form up in town to transfer onto heavy trucks and rail for transport inland. The gulls could be heard honking above them, scouring for loose fries, though these gulls were soon drowned out by the bustle at ground level. The tanks that passed them were mostly skeleton crewed, with only their drivers and commanders aboard, shuttling them into position while the rest of the players walked, or were driven ashore in trucks and half-tracks. Kay looked over her shoulder and cracked a smirk at a squad of English and American girls chatting it up in the back of a German half-track, meanwhile a quartet of Canadian and Scottish pipers along with their squads walked by playing Auld Lang Syne, quite the emotional song, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves.

"Really?" Naomi asked. Kay had skipped her meeting with Namoi the other day, finally having the guts to speak to her now. "I don't think I've ever openly spoken about it… do I really emit that much lesbian energy?"

Kay pursed and puckered her lips, blinking back at Naomi… "Err…" she squeaked, then immediately shut herself down. She cleared her throat, snapping her gaze directly at Naomi. "Yeah, _big_ time." she remarked.

Naomi snirked, shaking her head. "Not sure if I should be flattered or offended." she commented, turning on her heels to face Kay before emitting one of the first outloud laughs she'd ever heard Naomi make. "Well… why do you bring it up now?"

Kay laced her fingers, hands resting around her abdomen. "Well, you seemed like the best person to ask about this." she paused for a moment, her gaze shifting back towards the moored carrier. She was losing focus again, where was her headstrong go-get-em attitude when she needed it? "I was wondering, sorta like… how you knew… y'know?"

Naomi raised a brow. "As in… knew I was into other girls?" she asked, getting a nod from Kay. "Well… it wasn't like I woke up one day and thought; _yeah, girls._ Doesn't normally happen like that, far as I can tell. But over time I just realized; _yeah, I'd date a girl_. Which eventually developed into more… intimate thoughts. If you follow. Eventually I just reached a point of self-realization that girls appeal to me more than guys." she explained. Her brow still raised, she leaned forward, lowering her voice slightly, probably more for Kay's benefit than anyone else's. "Are you dealing with conflicting thoughts?"

Kay inhaled deeply, her chest puffing out before slowly exhaling in a long drawn out sigh. "Maybe…" Kay muttered, crossing her arms. She cocked her hips, shifting her weight to one side, staring down at the water. She scrunched her brow, "It's just that- well," her brow shot back up. She canted her head towards Naomi, dropping her arms to her side. "I never thought I'd be, y'know, attracted to another girl. I _was_ hoping you could give me advice." even though she had a whole day to prep herself for this encounter and was doing her best to mask her anxiety over the situation, she knew her face had to be growing redder the longer they stayed on this topic. It could have been worse.

"Wow…" Naomi mused, standing back upright, shifting a leg back as she rested her arms over her chest. A toothy, almost cocky grin played across Naomi's face that normally was reserved for whenever she scored a kill. "Yeah, I never thought you'd be the type. Good on you for not penting this up, I'm actually somewhat honored to be the first person you've spoken to about this. It says something." she added, "But, if you're looking for _lesbian _advice, the best I can give you is; you don't need it. It's really not all that different from how you'd approach someone of the opposite sex."

Kay tilted her head slightly in a _does not compute _fashion. "Really?" that went against a fair amount of what she'd been lead to believe.

Naomi nodded. "It's really no different, just like with any person, you determine the best way to approach on an person-by-person basis. No one technique will work on everyone. What some may say typically work on guys, may even work on girls and vice-versa." she paused for a bit, seeming to gauge Kay's response. "For starters, what's she like?"

Kay, sucked in her upper lip and bit on it, she felt her face pinken. "Well..." she started, but again, cut herself off. She clenched her firsts and quietly cussed herself out, "_you wouldn't be so damn tentative if you were talking to someone about a guy! Suck it up already!_" she screamed in her head. So she did. She bit the fucking bullet. Full dive baby. "It's Jessica, it's the American commander!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up, palms open to the wind. "She's courageous, an adaptive thinker and a damn fine captain and tanker! I see so much damn potential in her for crying out loud!" she paused for a moment, taking the time to take a deep breath, reeling her outburst back in. "Yeah, there's still stuff she needs to learn, no one's perfect but she's better than I was when I first started. So maybe I see a bit of myself in her… myself without the flaws…" she realized how oxymoronal the last sentence sounded; setting her foot down on a high stool to pose all impressive like only to yank it out from under her a moment later. "She's a damn natural." after laying it all out on the floor, a very elating feeling came over Kay, she couldn't quite place it but it felt like a weight had dropped within her chest, pinning her to the concrete below her before finally being ripped right out of her chest. She was left to take a shaken breath.

There was no immediate reply from Naomi, she just saw her eyes shift up, then quickly dart to the side before returning back to center, then she repeated this before finally her face ticked slightly, looking a little peeved before defaulting back to her neutral resting bitch face. Naomi then finally directed her full attention back to Kay, exhaling sharply. "Well, that got… deeper than I expected this would." she commented, her arms still crossed over her chest. Naomi's visage dipped, a brow raising. "You good?"

"M-maybe…" Kay muttered, quietly, still trying to place this feeling. She rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, raising a fist and flexing her wrist. "Yeah. Yeah, I feel good." she confirmed, her gaze fixated in front of her. She pressed her thumb down across her index finger, only snapping out of her trance when she heard and felt her knuckle crack. "Reeeal good." she could now place it; she felt relief.

"That, my commander, is the feeling of validation." Naomi replied, cracking a grin, which Kay almost immediately mirrored. Kay moved on to her middle finger with her thumb, cracking the corresponding knuckle, nodding, slowly at first before accelerating to a more rapid bop.

"Yeah. Yeah. I guess… I'm feeling less contained? Less…" she trailed off again, opening her hands and leveling them, snapping her fingers rotating between them with speed as she searched for the word.

"Pressured? Restricted? Caged?" Naomi offered, her grin ever still present.

Kay bobbed her head with each offered term. "All of the above." Kay replied, shooting Naomi with her index finger after one final snap. With the barriers down, she was starting to come around to her feelings. Logically, everything even started making sense as Kay put the pieces together. She was a Sensha-do player, a sport filled with headstrong, courageous and independent girls? Please, if nothing like this happened within such groups, that in of itself would have been an anomaly. There was just one question on her mind, the last thing that truly gave her pause. Would she feel the same? It wasn't like she could just approach her and ask her orientation of her. She then voiced this to Naomi.

"Well, maybe it's luck that landed us in France then?" Naomi replied, it almost sounded like she was teasing her. "Come. We're meeting outside the trainyard aren't we?" Kay raised a brow, Naomi hadn't answered the damn question.

"Wait, what's that supposed to mean?!" Kay exclaimed, charging after Naomi who already was at a brisk walk down the pier.

"I'm saying that we're in one of the countries of love, ask her out, what's the worst that could happen?" Naomi replied.

"Uh, I get horribly embarrassed and make a fool out of myself." Kay remarked.

"What happened to our commander that says; _fuck what people think, I'm sticking to my guns?_" Naomi asked, slowly tilting her head to slyly glance at Kay. "The one who chewed out Alisa for her lack of sportsmanship? The one who I've seen cheering her team on from the top of her tank while shells are flying, when common sense would have said _get the fuck down_?"

Kay felt a twang of shame, but she couldn't deny Naomi's points. Of all the things she'd done, be it sticking to her guns or flying in the face of adversity, why was _this_ giving her such pause? She'd been dwelling on this a week and a day, surely she'd stalled long enough! She huffed a stream of hot air out her nose. "Alright Naomi, you've made your point." she relented, clenching her fists and crossing her arms as the two walked along the pier. "I'll give it a stab."

"There we go, now that's more like it!" Naomi cheered, raising her fists, one above the other, like if she'd been getting ready for a throwdown.

Kay chuckled, now fairly confident in her conviction, she lowered her arms and sank her hands into the pockets of her shorts. While virtually everyone else from the Western Teams had been ordered to don their dress uniforms, the Japanese girls dodged that bullet - with Kay wearing most of her Saunders Sensha-do uniform; minus the jacket, with only her boots, high socks, hot-pants/shorts and a black T-shirt. As they headed towards the depot that was being used as the initial assembly area, where the teams were being sorted out onto trucks and half tracks, the last of the tanks passed them; a Churchill with a longer than normal gun.

Most of the squads had already been shipped over to the trainyard by the time Kay and Namoi arrived, with the last few trucks being loaded up. The last of the tanks slated for use were already departing, with that long barreled Churchill MkIV and two Valentine II MkIII Infantry Tanks exiting the portyard for the streets of the city. From what Kay had seen, that wasn't all the Brits had brought with them. She knew there were some cruiser tanks around here somewhere… maybe some Crusaders, Cromwells or Comets. Ohh… a Comet would be an impressive piece with a gun outpreforming even that of the Firefly, at 77mm's.

Kay and Naomi were ushered towards one of the olive GMC army trucks, the two of them climbing into the back as the back was shut behind them, being the last two in. Kay saw the MP rap the back of the truck, signaling the driver that it was full. It wasn't a terribly long drive, but Kay wasn't feeling particularly talkative right now, being more than content to just listen to the Americans talk to the English that shared the back of the truck with them. It was a combination of boys and girls, both English and American.

"So, far as I can tell, we're just here to fill in as foot bodies." commented one of the American boys.

"So we're not gonna be drivin' any tanks? Bugger." mumbled one of the English chaps.

"Oh, c'mon it's not so bad. Chin up man, you'll be the ones keepin' little old us safe from those lads with anti-tank weapons." added one of the English girls, trying to put a bright spin on things for the lads, but to Kay's ears, more attuned for the American accent, it came off as condescending. Though the English lad didn't seem to think so.

"Well, I don't mind that so much, guess it'll be us luggin' around all that heavy equipment then? Wouldn't wanna let you ladies down, draggin' all that gear around." the English boy replied, again, with his tone, Kay perceived that as a _little _misogynistic. But like last time, the English crew didn't pick up on it. Maybe it was just an accent thing. Kay mustn't have been the only one noticing this as once the English started talking, the Americans had mostly quieted down, casting awkward glances each other's way.

Thankfully the now precarious situation that had developed didn't last particularly long… because it was replaced by one that had already escalated. Their truck pulled into the lot next to the trainyard, already the tanks were being loaded onto flatbed cars while the players waited around for the passenger trains to show up. This boredom that stemmed from waiting around in the hot summer sun had apparently caused tempers to flare. Kay leapt out of the back of the GMC to the greetings of a shouting match going on a few trucks down. Kay grimaced, glancing towards the chain link gate they'd just passed through, the French city street of Le Havre beyond it. What was going on now?

She took off towards the sound of battle, with it becoming more and more shrill as she approached. Coming about just past the last of the GMC trucks, Kay found Darjeeling attempting to insert herself between the bickering players from the UK.

Currently, going at it, was a boy with bright red curly hair and blue eyes with a light brown haired girl with hazel eyes. Aside from physical features setting them apart, their uniforms, both of which were their dress uniforms, as everyone had been ordered to don this morning, also differed drastically. The brown haired girl wore a khaki dress coat with two chest pockets, over-top an olive collared shirt, her white riding breeches - in the World War One style - reached down to her ankles which were wrapped in leather, covering the opening between her leg and calf-high leather boots. On her head was your typical officer's cap, while her torso was wrapped by two leather belts, one diagonally across her chest and the other just a few inches below her breast, attached to the later, a Pattern 1897 infantry officer's sword. Meanwhile, the redheaded boy, wore a similar, if not identical layout on his torso, with the same shirt, coat and pair of belts, though without a sword. Where it differed was with what was above and below that. Atop his head was a red tartan beret with a fluffy pom on top of that. On the reverse side of that, a thick plaid skirt - sorry, _kilt _\- reaching down just around his knees while woolen grey sock reached up just below his knees, sticking out of his brown leather jackboots which were wrapped in a white linen.

"Oi, y'know we're drivin' tanks out 'ere lassie, what are ya gonna do? Sit pretty above yer turret, wavin' yer sword about like; _drive me closer, I wannae hit 'em with me sword!"_ exclaimed the scotsman.

"Why I never! It is well known that any officer that goes into action without her sword is improperly dressed!" exclaimed the Englishwoman, resting her hands atop her hips.

"Gents! Please!" Darjeeling interjected, extending her arms between the two, trying to put some space between the two bickering players. The English girl's sword made Kay a little uncomfortable with the situation.

"Oi, Awa' n' bile yer head, ya fuckin' roaster!" the Scot shot at Darjeeling, who seemed to shatter a little inside, though Kay had no idea what he'd just said. "An' _you!_" he directed, back at the english girl. "Yer bum's oot th' windae, ye fuckin' bampot! Y' really think tha' we're just gonna layover an' ease it like ewe in heat? Nae! Tha' ain't how this works!"

"Oh, I see, trying to bribe me with your national standard of threats and sheep, I've yet to see any sheep, so it's not a done deal yet, however I can play the insult game, _boy_. Would. You. Speak. Proper. English!?" bellowed the English girl, her voice going shrill. "I can't understand a bloody thing your spewing!"

"Fine. I'll make it easier fer yer wee brain ta understand." resumed the Scot. He leveled his arms at his waist, palms open and faced to the sky before condescendingly remarking; "Y' want our help, then ye start payin' us some fookin' respect."

Darjeeling, shook her head violently, shaking herself out of her insulted daze. "Look, if we can just set this aside for now. Uh… Liam, I'll have one of mine hear you out, Jacklyn, I shall then work with you, we shall see if we can mediate out a meaningful conclusion to your uh… conundrum." she offered, trying desperately to wave off the heavily accented Scot and the high and regal sounding Brit.

"No, you know what?!" Jacklyn exclaimed, jabbing a finger at Liam. "I'll not be insulted, just because you feel that our songs do not represent us _fairly_. It's been chosen, if you feel so strongly about it, why don't you just go march with the Canadians when we hit Paris?! It shall be no sweat of my brow!"

"Alrigh' then lassie! Sure, I don't see why no'! In fact, tha' migh' just be th' greatest idea y've 'ad all fookin' year!" Liam bit back, starting to backpedal, flipping Jacklyn a reverse peace sign; an aggressively english way to flip someone off, before pivoting on his heels and marching off in search of his boys.

"Sod off!" screamed the Brit in return, starting to turn around to storm off on her own, then realizing, slowly and awkwardly, that she had to go the same way as Liam to find her own unit. As the two departed, Kay stepped forward, clearing her throat softly to get Darjeeling's attention. The Gloriana girl held a hand up to her lips, cupped and eyes shut, breathing deeply. It wasn't like Darjeeling to lose her cool.

"Bloody hell… this is a fine mess." she muttered, finally turning to face Kay.

"Define _mess_?" Kay asked, "What just happened?"

Darjeeling slid her hand from mouth to forehead, releasing an exasperated sigh. "The UK's contingent isn't nearly as unified as I had hoped. Far as I can tell, the Scottish and English are at odds right now… seems to be a conflict over which marching song they'll use in the upcoming Paris parade the Western teams are slated for." Darjeeling explained, slipping her hand off her forehead and throwing it up into the air in dismay.

Kay furrowed her brow, seemed like there was more to it than that at first. She voiced this; "Seemed like it bit deeper than just songs Darj'."

Darjeeling shook her head, waving Kay down as she began to walk towards the tracks, Kay following behind. "The English and Scots have a… troubled history." she said, speaking to Kay with her head turned over her shoulder. Her eyes shifted to the ground and she grimaced; "Though, that's putting it mildly."

Kay pursed her lips in thought, "Guess we'll have to keep an eye on them…" she mused, catching up to Darjeeling so she only had to look to her left instead of over her shoulder. Kay's eyes were glued to the ground as they walked towards the tracks where everyone was mulling around, though her gaze was ripped from her boots when the sound of a train horn pierced the ambient chatter that chittered through the lot. Her gaze show immediately down the tracks, she didn't see a train, but the horn meant it would be showing up soon.

"Don't worry about it, you and Saunders are busy with the Americans already, St. Gloriana will deal with the UK's problems." Darjeeling reassured, "I'll have Rosehip talk to the Scots, I always did think she took a bit more after them than the English."

Kay smirked, probably because the red hair, though that train of thought caused her to furrow her brow, Pekoe was also ginger… nah, maybe she came off as more Irish. Speaking of whom, didn't seem to be very eager to take a side in this argument, neither did the Welsh for that matter. Though Kay wondered if that would remain the case for long. Kay glanced over her shoulder at the UK girls and boys scattered through the lot, she couldn't help but feel something was off about the proportion and assortment of the players. For starters, there were definitely more boys than girls this time. Kay had to do a slow double take to make sure she wasn't counting any Canadian or American boys in combination with the UK boys, though in the end, she wasn't sure of the final proportion - at least in terms of the UK group. There were far too many for her to manually count effectively. She did know for a fact that the Canadian and American units had a higher proportion of girls than boys however.

"Kay?" Darjeeling asked, causing her to flinch.

"Oh, sorry… zoned out for a bit." Kay replied, half-lying. "Thanks though, I do have my hands _quite _full right now." she offered a half-assed toothy grin back at Darjeeling.

Darjeeling, with a more modest smile, nodded back, "Don't worry, we'll have everything sorted before the Paris Parade." she said, now fully back in her normal, regal sounding and confident English tone that she prided.

Kay nodded, turning her head back down the tracks, the sound of the engine could be heard just over the hills, it was close now. Standing nex to the tracks, she saw Jessica, standing next to Whitney, both of them in their American green dress uniforms, Whitney's with a pencil skirt, Jessie's with trousers. She didn't bother lying to herself any further - while Jessie may not have looked _hot _or _sexy _or even particularly _pretty _in her uniform, ACU or Dress, Kay had to admit, she looked fine. Not just fine, but _fine_, if you catch the meaning. _Fine _in the sense of; _damn, that is a fine lady_. Dignified, professional, bad-ass; _fine_. Kay was considering approaching, asking the difficult question and just breaking through that initial barrier that was keeping her from running with her gut. Just to take a dive into it and see what would happen. She almost did too, though any thought of that was soon back-benched as another sound caught Kay's attention; in the distance she could hear Miho, shouting in broken English.

"Anyone have service?! Anyone have service?!"

Kay frantically looked around the lot for where her voice was coming from, though she didn't have to look very long as she saw Miho barrel around a row of GMC trucks and the two locked eyed. Kay beckoned her over, with Darjeeling taking notice as well. "Miho is something the matter?" she asked in Japanese.

Running over, so that she didn't have to scream at them, Miho skidded to a stop before them and started rapidly spouting Japanese at them. "Do any of you have service? A phone that'll work here? I can't find Yukari!"

Kay's brow shot up. "Oh… oh that's not good."

**Meanwhile…**

Yukari sat on the back of the GMC six-wheeler in awkward silence. This particular variation lacked an overhead canopy, leaving the occupants in the back exposed to the summer heat. She didn't mind however, she could take in the French countryside… so many hedgerows. What she did begin to take issue with was how long they'd been driving. When she heard that a group of Canadians were going on a slight detour through France, she hadn't expected it to be a three to nearly four hour detour. She may have gotten a little ahead of herself. It wasn't until an hour and a half into the trip that she learned that the Canadians present, about eight in total if you included the two in the cab, were heading up to Belgium by road.

"I tell ya, eh… wasn't expectin' it to be so dairn hot out 'ere." said Sam, who sat right across from Yukari, wiping sweat off her forehead. She took hold of the front of the truck bed shell, shakily standing up to stick her head up above the cab. Faintly, from out of the open top of the cab, Yukari could hear Jennifer shout out to her driver;

"Sit down!" with only moments later, Jacob poking his head out of open cab, standing in the middle of the machine gun ring - minus a machine gun - where a gunner would normally stand. He pivoted around and repeated; "She said sit down."

"Then why do you get to stand up, eh?" Sam shot back.

"Well because I'm standing in a tight ring with little space to move while being eighty percent inside a secure vehicle, while you on the other hand could take one wrong tumble and become a pavement pancake." he replied, focused on Sam, but shooting Yukari a quick glance coupled with a low-key smile.

"Ugh, fine… can I drive on the way back?" she asked, starting to sit down, but tilting her head off the side of the truck bed to angle her words into the open window of the cab.

"You don't have a driver's license!" Jenny shot back, Yukari faintly catching it over the rushing winds.

"I drive a fuckin' tank! Ain't that enough for ya?" Sam exclaimed, throwing her arms up in frustration.

"Not here it isn't!" Jenny quipped. "I'm the only one with an _actual _license, just be glad you get to go on this trip, I had to convince our CTF rep that we'd be back in time for the parade tomorrow!" That was right! There was supposed to be a parade tomorrow in Paris, Yukari wondered if the Japanese girls would be able to participate or if it was a Western only thing.

Still standing out of the cab, Jacob angled himself a little to shout back into the cab. "For that it's worth, I appreciate it!" then stood back straight again, looking down from the cab to a confused looking Yukari. Confused, yes, but not for lack of understanding, those extra lessons with Rosehip were starting to pay off.

"Why is this trip to important to you?" she shouted, to be heard over the rushing winds.

Tilting his head slightly, it took a moment for Jacob to fully register her question, taking a moment to make sure he'd heard everything correctly. "Well, none of us have been to France before and those you see here have a deep respect for military history, I'd like to think that anyone who takes part in this sport would. So out of curiosity and I'd even say respect, we want to visit some of the old memorials around here."

Yukari nodded, "Right, we're headed up to Belgium wasn't that correct?" She knew that the next match was slated to be held at Verdun. She knew enough about World War One to know that they were going to either be in for a treat, or an absolute nightmare, depending on how you looked at the experience. Up in Belgium however…

"Our final destination is Ypres in Belgium, yeah, but Jenny said we're going to make a few extra stops on the way up there. Areas around the Somme, Vimy Ridge and Passchendaele to name a couple." Jacob explained. He then tensed up, "Ohp! One moment." he slid back down into the cab, not showing up again for a couple minutes. But when he did, he had a message. "So uh, Yukari, you didn't tell Miho where you were going?"

Yukari clenched her jaw, visibly cringing. Damn it. She didn't want Saori getting all weird on her, given how things were developing. The last thing she wanted however was to panic Miho, but in her desire to keep Saori in the dark she totally forgot to let Miho know. Yukari pinched her nose bridge. "Crap." she muttered, then looking up apologetically at Jacob. "Err… nope, no I didn't." she remarked, guiltily embarrassed. Jacob regarded her blankly for a moment with his warm hazel eyes, then held a hand up with a finger extended before dipping back into the cab, then popped right back out again.

"Okay, so… Miho apparently was having a bit of a meltdown, but it's okay, crisis avert-" the truck rattled as it ran over a pothole in the French country road, causing Jacob to flail around in the MG-ring with a girlish yelp before slinking back down into the cab. Yukari fought back the urge to leap to her feet and peek down into the cab through the hatch.

"A-are you alright?!" she shouted, cupping a hand next to her lips. The chatter of Sam and the other three girls and single guy dying down for a moment.

"Yeeeaaahhh…" Jacob groaned back, sounding as painfully sarcastic as he could. "Just minor to severe whiplash… just peachy!"

Yukari winced, seeing right through his act, he didn't sound so great. Thankfully Yukari began to see the beginnings of a city in the distance. "Where are we, are we stopping there?" she asked. Yukari had her own reasons for tagging along, partly, she saw it as an opportunity to put her English to the test, while also getting to spend time with Jacob. Not that she saw it as romantic or anything, for all she knew he was still completely clueless, but it gave her an opportunity to further gauge him and try to understand him. On the other hand, she just wanted to evacuate the tense situation that she'd felt the moment she stepped off the Eisenhower and ran into those departing the Rommel.

"Oh! Yeah, can we stop there for a bit?" asked Laura, Jenny's gunner.

"Huh?" Yukari heard Jenny start, raising her voice to be heard. "We're coming up on Amiens. Wasn't planning on stopping in the actual city, but sure. I'll see if I can't find like… a drug store or something, because _someone _kinked their neck!"

"Advil and Ice! Would be very nice!" Jacob honked. He sounded like he'd put himself at an awkward angle, but whatever helped, she guessed.

It was a strange sight, seeing the old World War Two era truck mixed in with 21st century cars and SUVs, though perhaps _mixed _wasn't entirely situationally correct. More like, _lined up with_. The country roads hadn't been so bad, but now that they were in the city, they could really compare the stark contrast between the aged French city and say, Seattle. Everything could be dated at a mere glance. Almost all the roads had been paved over, but hints of their former cobbled brick form could be seen peeking out along the edges of them. Many structures were also of brick, built in the flemish style looking like they dated back to the early to mid 1900s, though they passed structures that seemed even older. Yukari in particular was fascinated by one of the longer buildings they passed, surrounded by a black iron fence. The arch that created the building's roof read RF in a stylized plaque. At least she thought it said RF, she squinted, maybe it said RL, she couldn't tell given its font and how quickly they were moving.

"So… that was a high school." muttered Tess, Jenny's loader. Impressive, though nothing like Ooarai.

The traffic wove through the narrow streets of the city, another contrast to the more open streets one might have expected in a modern American city. But that's what happens to cities that were established before motorized vehicles became commonplace.

Eventually, after much confused navigation of the streets, Jenny seemed to find an appropriate pit stop having driven them out onto a wider more up-to-date street. She pulled the GMC into a small lot, searching for an appropriate place to rest the truck. When she finally did, the engine went quiet and the cab door swung open, with the pink haired commander sliding out from the driver's seat. Some of the local passerby gave them curious looks as they disembarked, some seemed inquisitive, others a bit confused. The other girls and the single guy were standing up, with the boy, one Thomas Currie, kneeling back down to loose the hatch at the back, folding it down so the others could disembark. Sam however seemed far to impatient and instead vaulted over the side of the truck, landing on the pavement below on her feet, but stumbling forward and flailing her arms as she nearly lost her footing. "Yeowch!" she exclaimed, hopping on one foot while raising her other, flexing her ankle while reaching down and groping at it.

"Advil for two, kinked neck and twisted ankle, coming up." Jenny grumbled, passing Sam with a look that just screamed; _these damn kids._

The rest of them got to stand up, stretch their legs while Jenny ran into the drug store. Yukari however, noticed Sam tug Laura aside, whispering something to her and handing her something. A moment later, with a nod, Laura took off at a jog, vaulting over a concrete divider to reach the sidewalk and headed down it towards an intersection, stopping and waiting for the light to change. Yukari looked around for any clue as to where she might be going; on the other side of the street was a coffee shop, florist and comic store. She saw Laura start crossing the street but before she could determine where she was headed, Yukari heard a rattle from behind her. Looking back over her shoulder she saw Jenny toss a bottle of over-the-counter painkillers to her brother, some generic brand of ibuprofen or something.

"Give some of that to Sam as well." she said, getting a nod from Jacob, who cracked the bottle open, dumping out two pills and downing them with a tug from his canteen before handing the painkillers over to Sam, who was still hobbling a little. "Now where did Laura go?"

"Err…" Sam tensed up, taking the bottle from Jacob, the short haired ginger cleared her throat, idly opening the bottle and pouring out a couple pills. "I asked 'er ta go across th' road 'ere an' grab somethin' fer me." she downed her painkillers with a swig from her own canteen; something Yukari wished _she _had, it was a hot one this summer.

Jenny sighed, she didn't seem to be much a fan of the heat either, her brow glistening with sweat. She walked over to the cab, opening the door back up and leaning in, emerging with her canteen which she held the back of her hand to for a moment. She groaned and unscrewed the lid, letting it hang off the spout by the connecting linen band that ensured she never lose it. She downed the entire thing, wiping her mouth and groaning about it being warm as they waited for Laura to get back. Yukari paced back and forth, the heat starting to get into her without the constant flow of air she had gotten while sitting in the open bed of the GMC on the move. She stopped to lean against the side of the truck buy by now the side of the truck had heated up to such a degree that the metal burned her through her thin Ooarai school shirt after only a few seconds against it. She jumped away from it with a slight yelp, reaching over her shoulder to pat herself down, cringing slightly. While she was doing this she saw Jacob and the other guy, Thomas head into the drug store, she wondered what they were doing. Jennifer seemed to notice this, huffing out her nose, frustratedly.

"I'd _really _like to get moving again, the heat is only going to make the cab even more unbearable the longer we sit here." she commented, though her tune changed slightly when the two boys came back out with disposable water bottles. As they approached, Thomas began handing the ones he was carrying out, keeping one for himself, Jacob however called out; "Yukari!" getting her attention before tossing her one from the armful of four he had. She narrowly caught it out of the air, fumbling with it for a bit before getting her hands firmly wrapped around the cool bottle of water. Another of the four went to his sister while the spare he had was tucked away in the cab, with him keeping the last of them.

She nodded thankfully towards Jacob, cracking her bottle open and taking a good long gulp. "Thanks." she finally offered. Jacob smiled, nodding back, uncapping his own bottle, now that his canteen was dry.

"No sweat- well, actually a lot of it, that's why I got these." he replied, biting the corner of his lip as he snirked a bit at his own bad joke. "Heh, Maybe I should have gotten more, but out here? Costs a freakin' arm and a leg for this." he added.

Yukari giggled quietly. Then a question from before entered her mind, one she just had to voice; "You think they will allow or have the Japanese crews join the Paris parade?" she asked, pursing her lips and raising her gaze in thought, taking the opportunity to gulp down more delicious water.

When she looked back down, she saw Jacob shake his head, but also shift his shoulders in a shrug, giving her a sideways confused expression. "Dunno. Maybe. But even if they did, I doubt they'd let your crew - and a couple of the others for that matter - drive their own tanks down the streets." he answered. Yukari raised a brow, about to ask why. Her mouth was half open when the obvious answer hit her in the face, followed by her hand as she swatted herself on the forehead. "Yeah, Panzers rolling down the middle of Paris would be a _little _bit… uh…" Jacob pursed his lips, fixating his eyes straight forward and lightly clearing his throat and throwing his head back before in an altered, comically strained cartoonish voice finished; "_Awwkwaaaard." _before returning back to his normal voice.

Yukari replied with a tentative, toothy grin, clenching her teeth together as she emitted a single, forced, "Heh." with little sense of humor, realizing what she'd purposed, holding her water bottle with both hands at chest level. "Yeah, I guess that would a bit… insensitive."

Jacob nodded, "That said, I don't see why the other tanks wouldn't be allowed to join, it's just that the Hetzer, Stug, Tiger and Panzer would probably cause more trouble than they're worth. In this one scenario." he reasoned, apparently unaware that one of those tanks wasn't even present any more.

"No, no, I understand, it just initially went right over my head." Yukari replied, shaking her head rapidly and holding up her left hand, waving it to imply he didn't need to explain or make further excuses for her.

Jacob scratched nervously behind his head, giving an apologetic smile back at her. "Sorry." he offered, "But uh… hey you're still helping the Americans out right? You going to be present during our next match? The Verdun one?"

Yukari pursed her lips, thinking for a moment, dipping her gaze. Yeah, she was pretty sure that was still the plan. She raised her visage, tilting her head back and taking a long gulp of water, perhaps longer than she'd intended, lowering the bottle with a wide eyed gasp - the bottle nearly empty. Her chest heaving as she panted, "Yeah. I think that's the plan still." she finally replied after catching her breath.

She heard Jacob chuckle, "Hope we're on the same team. I'd hate to have to shoot your commander in the back of the head again." he remarked, a smug, shit eating grin plastered across his face as cocked his hips, crossed a foot behind his ankle and leaned onto the side of the GMC with his forearm. A few moment later he groaned before suddenly pulling his arm off the truck with a slight, sharp whine, reaching over and rubbing the length of his right forearm. "Oww! Hot, hot, hot!" he exclaimed.

Yukari snickered giving him a playful grin before finishing off her water. She may have recalled something about him being the one that KO'ed Miho in the Canada vs. America match they played last week. Not something she was going to judge him on, he was a good operator, even on his own. It may have been a whole new breed of Sensha-do, the way the West played it, but she was impressed. Immersed by it. It provided a whole new feeling to Sensha-do that she'd never quite felt before. It wasn't quite a true authentic experience, it never would be - nor would she ever claim it to be - the real thing. Not without live rounds flying past her face and the ever present threat of death, something that she was sure would make her just a _little _less eager to pursue the sport, but it was close enough to the real thing without getting herself killed. A chance to put herself back in the shoes of those who fought, to experience the closest thing she could to what they may have gone through. If only she'd known how far the difference between this new form of Sensha-do and the real thing was.

"I'm back!" Laura exclaimed, vaulting over the concrete barrier at the edge of the parking lot, in her arms both a bouquet of purple flowers and a bundle of small red, nearly clover or heart shaped flowers. She thought the purple ones may have been lilacs but didn't immediately recognize the red ones. She went straight to Sam, handing her the lilacs, but held onto the red flowers.

"Flowers?" Jenny asked. She'd climbed up into the cab of the GMC, leaving the door open as a small magnetic fan was stuck to the dashboard, just the size of Yukari's palm - every little bit helped she guessed - pretty sure this old thing didn't have internal fans, let alone A/C. But apparently Jenny was also the first to put it together. "Family?" she quizzically stated.

Sam nodded. "Great Uncle." she simply replied as a sudden silence fell over the players. There didn't seem to be anything else to say at the moment, whatever mood there had been was killed.

"C'mon, lets go visit then." Jenny said, calmly, reservedly, jabbing a thumb back towards the truck bed. Yukari and the others jumped back onto the back of the truck, with Jacob running around the back to the other side from where they stood, climbing into the other side of the cab. The engine roared to life as Jenny hit the ignition, backing the truck up slowly before taking out onto the road again. The journey to their first actual destination was slow going, trying to make their way out of the city. But once they were… they didn't actually speed up all that much as the GMC rounded through the country roads that surrounded the city, eventually stopping at an open field with a large hedge wall near the corner of it with an open lot before it. A single car was parked outside these hedges. There was a small marbled archway that split the hedges open, allowing entry into them. Jenny pulled the GMC into this small lot, parking the truck a space away from the smaller car. As they entered the lot, Yukari swore she saw dips in the fields beyond, lone trees standing defiantly above them. Many of the hills around this area dipped down and bobbed back up with almost no rhyme or reason. Somewhere in the middle of that field was just a large inverted bulge, digging deep into the earth. Impact, craters, explosions, trenches. They were on historic land. This was land where people had lost their lives. Yukari passed out of the back of the truck, pivoting around the corner of the GMC's rear and looking up at the marble arch above her, as did a couple of the others present.

_Lest We Forget_

The arch read these words right in the middle of it. As they approached, a small plaque near the base of the arch read something about this being a Commonwealth memorial. As she passed through the arch however, the little hedge grotto suddenly felt a whole lot bigger…

Yukari took a shaken gulp as she peered out from behind Sam, who held the lilac bushel in her arms. Yukari glanced at her face, she too was displaying the same shaken look, her eyes glistening with damp sorrow as the group of them looked out upon rows upon rows upon rows upon rows of crosses and headstones. There had to be hundreds here, if not thousands. Some of them were adorned with wreaths of flowers, some had simple red flowers placed at their bases.

Sam took the lead, taking the first step off the cobbled pathway that lead into the memorial and onto the well kept grass field. Yukari didn't feel amazed, she didn't feel awe, she didn't feel a whole lot of anything at the moment, the only thing she could feel was her heart sinking deeper and deeper as she looked over the crosses and headstones. Too many of them labeled, not by name, but by a single, heart shattering statement that echoed through the century; _a soldier_. Some of these symbols of remembrance were lucky to have names and for a moment, Yukari thought that Sam might not find what she was looking for. But that changed, when she stopped at one of the dozens of rows, pivoted on her heels and walked four crosses down. Most of the others had begun to hang back the further they walked through the cemetery, giving Sam her space, this included Laura who handed out the red flowers that Yukari finally was able to place; poppies.

Jess, Jacob and Yukari however hung around Sam for a bit, though Yukari hung a row behind her, her eyes glancing down at every headstone she passed, too many simply read _"A soldier" _though she did come across two that actually bore names and dates. She looked up and hesitantly peered around Sam's shoulder, though from her angle it was hard to read what she was looking at.

_Sgt. Eddie Wright, 1897-1916. Heavy Machine Gun Corps. His life for his country, his soul for God._

"Your uncle?" Jenny whispered.

Sam nodded slowly, setting the lilacs down at the grave's base. "Yeah." she simply stated, just as quietly, whispering as if just to let those buried here a peaceful slumber. Her eyes sunk down to his unit tag. "'eavy Machine Gun Corps." she mused, smiling slightly. "Just code, wasn't it uncle? Nah. It's cuz of you tha' I'm doin' what I'm doin' now. I'd never 'ave had the guts to step up and join th' team if it wasn't fer yer story. Drivin' the first of Britain's tanks into battle at the Somme. This… new invention tha' was meant to keep y'and yer crew safe... " Sam fell silent for a moment. Longer than a moment. "Y' like the flowers? Grandma said you'd like 'em, said yer fiance, grew 'em in her garden. I'm sorry that… that things didn't work out between you two. But… I'm sure she never forgot you. I didn't even know y'- but sure as 'ell ain't gonna ferget y'. Not now, nor any time soon." before she stood back up, she reached under her shirt. Yukari heard a faint jingle before seeing Sam pull out a pair of tags with a small chrome or silver cross between them; her Sensha-do style student ID tags with her name on them, along with this holy symbol. She clenched her tags and cross tightly, performing a slight hand gesture with two of her fingers, signing out what looked like another cross in the air before bowing her head. She removed her tags and cross, attached to a steel chain, which she looped over the top of the grave-cross. "I'll get new ones." she muttered.

Jenny tentatively, softly, put a hand on Sam's shoulder. She flinched slightly, but didn't complain. "You alright?" Jenny asked just as softly, treading lightly.

Sam nodded, "Yeah… kinda. When we first came to France, I told myself I'd make the trip to see the one who… really served as my inspiration since childhood, even though I'd never seen nor met 'em. To make this convenient pilgrimage. Niver thought that bein' 'ere… on these grounds'd, make me feel like this though. It's one thing to hear abou' all those tales, it's another to actually stand where it all happened." she whispered back. Jacob backed up a bit, looking over his shoulder at Yukari, he moved to join her, but not by stepping through the line of crosses, rather walked back to the middle of the cemetery, rounded the row behind him and walked back down towards her. "It's… sombering." Sam continued. "To see this place, where men that fell durin' our Seminal Tragedy. Fer what?" she looked back down towards the cross. "Who else tha' month he fell, was to be delivered word, tha' their boy, wasn't comin' home… who else was told their brother, their son, their friend, their loved one… who else was told they wouldn't be seein' 'em again?" she whispered, remorsefully, her gaze never leaving the cross. "Thousands? Millions?" she then gestured to a cross next to her uncle's. A generic soldier. Only in title. Sam looked back up, clenching her eyes shut before finally whispering, her voice almost a squeak at first before collecting herself. "How many, would never even get tha' closure?"

This place was getting to Yukari, that feeling of her heart sinking, still hadn't left her. She could feel a bulging pain down towards the bottom of her ribs where it felt like her heart had sunk. Yes, it hurt, just standing here, even though none of these people were her folks. Just standing in such a place where those men had fought, suffered and died. It was powerful. Moving. Haunting. And for the first time in her life, Yukari found herself second guessing herself. These folks had died despite the involvement of the tank. The first tank battle in history was conducted here at the Somme and yet still it wasn't enough. The tank was a weapon of war. It killed people, by shooting them, blowing them up, failing to protect them and worst of all, by poisoning them; it killed their own crews at times. So standing here, at a place adorned with the fallen among row upon row, she found herself, in stark contrast to her feelings less than an hour ago thinking; was this right? Was any of it right?

Standing here, she was almost certain… then she heard Jacob humming softly. He opened his lips; reciting an old poem. It may not have been the right location specifically, but the meaning was still just as impactful;

_"In Flanders Fields, where poppies blow; between the crosses, row on row, that mark our place; and in the sky - the larks, still bravely singing, fly. Scarce heard amid the guns below. We are the dead. Short days ago. We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow. The dead were loved and now we lie. In Flanders Fields, In Flanders Fields; and now we lie in Flanders Fields."_


	12. Prelude to Verdun

**June 9th, 2019 - Hamburg Dockyards, Germany**

* * *

Itsumi paced back and forth between the various German tanks what were lined up at the firing range. The cry of the gulls overhead on this bright, warm summer's day was suddenly drowned out with the concussive blast from Tiger I's 88mm gun, being followed up by a few seconds worth of MG-34 fire from the machineguns of several tanks. Most of them were just here for tests, to make sure their guns all worked properly.

Even though it had been nothing but training, drills and target practice, the stress was getting to her. Being the only senior officer that was sent to teach the Germans, she knew a great deal of the task ahead fell directly on her shoulders. Sure her crew was here, along with a few others from Kuromorimine, but so what? None of them were particularly influential except for her. Worse still, no word from Maho. She wasn't going to come. She tried to accept it, but doing so just dug her further into the pit of self-doubt and only served to increase the density of the weight she felt. This all came to show in about the same manner that all her anxiety and stress ever did.

"ARRGH!" she screamed, kicking the tread of a Panzer II she was passing, hoping to relieve some of her pent up frustration. She then repeated her last, screaming in pain and hoping on her foot as she heard her toe crack. "FFffffuck!" she reached down and groped at her foot, grimacing. Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why did she do that?! Once the pain had passed she hesitantly flexed her toes and ankle. Had it worked? No. Now she was just even more angry and frustrated, the pain only served to exacerbate this and she knew without a shadow of a doubt her face was going red with rage. Thankfully for her, she hadn't actually broken anything, probably just cracked or popped a knuckle.

As if lack of support from Kuromorimine wasn't enough, Itsumi kept finding herself asking just how the hell the Germans were supposed to win anything with the lineup they'd chosen. Sure, it was big, but most of it lacked any real firepower.

Assembled at the range were a wide host of German World War Two tanks, however they were _mostly _early war models; Panzer Is, Panzer IIs, Panzer IIIs and the like. There were several Panzer IVs and a few Stugs, while less than a handful of late war models; only four Panthers, two Tiger Is and a single Tiger II to their dozens of light tanks. She wasn't the only one to share this sentiment it seemed. In the distance she could hear someone venting their disdain in very angry German. She limped past a few more Panzer IIs, one of which unleashed a barrage from its 20mm autocannon downrange as she passed behind, almost blowing her eardrums and causing her to flinch. Dammit, she was _real _messed up if she jumped at that little thing. For the love of; she'd pay for Maho to come out here personally - out of her own pocket - if she could.

She peered down towards where the outburst had originated, it seemed to be coming from next to the lone King Tiger. Standing behind the tank, looking up towards the top of the turret was a short brown haired Austrian with attitude, bellowing something about the lack of heavy armor. Poking their heads out of the turret were the blonde haired and blue eyed commander - and overall team commander - Rommel and her second, the similarly blonde and blue eyed Henrietta. The only difference between the two at a distance being the dark purple streaks that ran through Henrietta's short blonde hair, while Rommel's was tied up into a tight ponytail.

"I'm not usually one for agreeing with you, but I see your point." Rommel stated as Itsumi entered earshot. Istumi crossed her arms as she approached, looking up at the turret as she came to a stop next to Allia. Rommel gave a quick nod to Itsumi before returning to her previous assessment. "Heavy armor will be most effective when _not _doing full sized _war games_. Domination, Headquarters, Annihilation, whatever; that's when we're going to be hurting for the big boys." she reasoned, both arms rested atop the turret and her commanding visage at rest with no particular expression across it. She'd raise a hand to lift her officer's peaked cap - complimented with a pair of rimless shades between the visor and peak - off her head, before wiping her brow with her sleeve, setting her forearm back down on the turret, cap still in hand. "Though I'm confident that no matter what match we're in, so long as they use war game rules, we'll come out on top. Combined arms works well with the light tanks, combine that with radio support options if we control a radio tower and we're golden." Rommel's gaze lingered for a while down at Allia before slowly rising to look past her, all the while remaining relatively neutral. "Besides, depending on the match, we're not even going to be able to use… all… our… Paaaaannnn-... zeeerrss…" she grinded to a halt, her neutral resting expression slowly taking on a new form. Her brow and corner of her mouth ticked as she looked past Itsumi and Allia. Itsumi bit; she looked over her shoulder to see one of the four Panthers stalling out in the middle of the concrete dockyard; between them and the range and the large hangars where they were storing the tanks. Thankfully, it didn't come to a full stop atop the railway that ran the length of the yard for the dock crane.

But as the Panther came to a halt, the commander of the tank sprung out of the top of the turret with spectacular fanfare. "AAHHH!" she screamed, looking back at the rear of her tank, smoke rising from the engine. Then a phrase that Erika had become all too familiar with was uttered, a meme that pretty much summed up her experiences with her Tiger II on a bad to average day; "Hanz, ze transmission broke!" though that was the least of her worries. A sudden, small detonation signaled to everyone in the yard that the engine just caught fire. "HANZ! ZE ENGINE IS ON FIRE!" the commander yelped, scrambling out of the turret in a panic, followed by the rest of her crew, crawling out of their hatches.

"NEIN!" shouted Rommel, ducking back into her turret for a moment and emerging with a small hand held fire-extinguisher, something all Sensha-do approved tanks were required to have, before leaping out of her turret, nearly catching her skirt on her cupola. Istumi slid out of the way as Rommel rushed halfway across the yard, all the while screaming; "Nein! Nein! Nein! There's a damn fire-extinguisher in your turret! What are you doing?!"

Rommel jumped up onto the tank, fearless of the fire before directing the extinguisher towards the inferno and letting it rip, dousing the flame. Once the fire was out, she tossed the spent fire extinguisher to the ground with a clatter that echoed across the yard, at a point when no tanks were firing, making it heard to all. The fire and explosion had already garnered most everyone's attention; tank commanders at the range, passing male infantry, sea cadets dressed in their sailor's uniforms - everyone - had their eyes turned towards Rommel. She jumped down from the damaged Panther as the commander of the tank slowly returned. There was no raised hands, there was no screaming into her face, just the disappointed tone of Erika Rommel. "I expected better from you Paulus."

The brown haired commander nodded meekly. "Ja Kommandant. I just- I-"

Rommel put a hand on the young lieutenant's shoulder. "Just don't let it happen again. I managed to pull things together, but I will not always be there nor capable of doing so all the time." Her voice lacked any true anger, but it dripped with disappointment, the same one might expect of a disillusioned mother. That tone seemed to cut further than any tongue lashing she could have given. The lieutenant snapped a quick salute.

"I will not let it happen again Kommandant!" she proclaimed, standing firm and rigid until Rommel waved her down with one hand.

"Good." she simply stated, taking a quick look around the dockyard at those who had halted their current tasks, their attention diverted to her. She climbed back up on the disabled Panther, taking a commanding stance atop the tank with her footing spread and hands on her hips. "I expect the best from _all _of you! I know how you all feel right now, you're tired, you're bored and you're raring to get going. Now I know this delay we're dealing with was none of our faults and we're all reeling from it. But if we can bare through these coming days, we will come out stronger - but only if we set our minds to it! We are all brothers and sisters here, even if we don't agree with one another-" she took a brief pause during her speech to shoot a glance down towards Allia who inched behind Itsumi to hide from her commander's gaze. "-but we're in this together now, if one of us fails, we let down the group as a whole. Let us use this time we have to hone and refine our skills, let us work together towards bettering ourselves for the coming trials ahead of us! And once our glorious ship arrives, we may finally, officially begin our trek towards glory, casting all our anxiety and doubt to the winds behind us! I ask only of you to grin and bear it for a while longer. To show me that you are the right person for the job! That you belong in that uniform!" Rommel took another pause, scanning to determine who was still paying attention. Once smiled slightly, it was almost impossible to see from where Itsumi stood, trying to nudge Allia back out into the open. "Now who here belongs in that uniform?!" Rommel exclaimed, thrusting a fist into the air, her sleeve being jerked down her forearm.

The yard erupted with cheers of; "Me!" and "I do!" from both the boys and girls. Even the tankers below Rommel who had abandoned their tank.

With a grin of approval and a quick nod, Rommel slid back off the tank, hopping back onto the concrete yard. She took a quick glance at Paulus before looking down the yard rails towards the dock crane, releasing a long draw out sigh. She raised a hand, motioning down towards the end of the dock, "Get the crane over here and get this tank back to shop." she turned around, both hands on her hips, looking over the Panther - both Erikas saw the problem. The Panther in question was an early model, rife with transmission and engine problems. It would need to be retrofitted. Rommel cast a glance over her shoulder back towards her Tiger II, pivoting on her heels and marching back over. Allia still stood next to Itsumi, watching the conundrum unfold while both Henrietta and Mikaela stood half out of the turret, with Mikaela - Rommel's gunner - poking out of the commander's hatch. On approach, Rommel shooed Allia to the side; the shorter girl took a big step left. Rommel's expression softened, if only slightly as she looked towards Itsumi. "So, what's your assessment?" she asked, one hand still lingering at her hip while the other hung freely by her side.

Itsumi crossed her arms, cocking her hips. She raised a hand to her lips and dipped her head, brow furrowed, thinking. When she looked back up she conveyed what she'd seen thus far. "You're split down the middle in terms of capability. Aside from that little mess I just witnessed, I've seen nothing to suggest that you or your girls are pushovers. Victory will certainly be within your grasp with you commanding them." she then quickly eyed over Rommel, fully taking her in. She was taller than Itsumi by at least a few inches and her hair had a more yellow-golden hue to it than her own while her eyes were a deeper, darker azure blue when compared to Itsumi's grey-blue. Her face was peculiar blend of sharp angles and soft surfaces; noricably her cheek and jawbones, which contrasted her chin, cheeks and nose. Powerful where it would convey authority, but elegant enough to portray class. Of the two, Rommel was also the more developed, filling out her uniform better than Itsumi by a noticeable margin. If it wasn't for the difference in hair and eyes, Itsumi could also see a resemblance between her and Maho, at least in regards to their attitudes, personalities and physical builds - though again, Rommel was the taller one. "You'd do your great grandfather proud I think."

Rommel blew hot air out her nose and shook her head, faintly grinning. "I don't know about that. I don't think he ever saw us using panzers for sport - for entertainment. Really, I can only hope I'm not causing him to roll in his grave."

Itsumi smirked and waved the German officer down, "I'm sure he'd at least be intrigued." she reaffirmed. Sensha-do was a lot of things, but shameful wasn't one of them, given the shameless displays of raw power that came nicely packaged into these neat, sleek metal monsters.

"_Eeeerika!" _someone called out, though the tone was hollow and digital, followed by three heavy drum beats before going quiet again. It came from one of the two girls. Rommel groped at her chest pockets, brow furrowed while Itsumi did the same, patting her own pockets down. Both of them pulled their phones out at the same time, whipping them out from their chest pockets.

"Wasn't me." Rommel muttered, looking up from her phone and across at Itsumi.

Itsumi glanced at her phone screen, the sound of her text notification going off had gotten her hopes up and she wasn't paying much attention to Rommel right now. There was something else, far more important that demanded her attention. Itsumi fumbled with her phone as she shakily keyed in a response;

"_We're in Hamburg! Will you be joining us?" _she hit send and it was a tense few moments before any response was hinted at, then appearing at the bottom of her chat; _Maho Nishizumi is typing…_

"_It won't be in an officially sponsored capacity, since I'm not going to be with Kuromorimine anymore, but I'll drop by. Don't know for how long though."_

Erika bit her tongue, containing her relief - and perhaps a bit of excitement. Even if was for a little bit, she just needed a moment of Maho's support. Teaching Sensha-do was a daunting task and while Itsumi would never outright state this openly, she wasn't sure she was the best choice for this task. Maho was on another level, she had the know how, the composure and the attitude for such an undertaking. Erika - Itsumi - on the other hand was horribly self-aware of her flaws and every moment she wasn't actively showing cadets how to care for their tanks, or sight in a target, or shift while on the move was a moment spend in self-doubt. She felt like bursting into tears of joy with Maho returning. But not here, maybe tonight, not in front of the cadets and most definitely not in front of who might be perhaps Maho's German peer. She lowered her phone and looked up at Erika - Rommel - who regarded her with a raised brow. Was there something on her face? Oh shoot maybe she was letting it slip a little! She recollected herself and shook her head lightly.

"Something the matter?" Rommel asked, her eyes doing a quick once-over of Itsumi.

Itsumi shook her head, "No, nothing at all." she replied, but eager to change the subject carried on; "Have you selected a battle theme that your team will march to?" she asked.

Rommel cocked her hips and pursed her lips, crossing her arms. "Hmm, now that you mention it, the infantry band was trying to come to that conclusion last night. Said they narrowed their choice down, buuut…" she trailed off, looking just a little nervous, a look that wasn't common for her. She reached a hand behind her head, grasping the back of her neck. "Mind joining me? I could use a second opinion while the others continue practice."

Itsumi glanced to her left, at the line of tanks - some of which had gone back to target practice. She could faintly hear some of the closer commanders calling out targets through the canonfire. She looked back to Rommel, probably with a similar look about her. "Sure." she replied, raising a hand and motioning to the side for her to show her the way.

Walking across the dockyard, the two had to pick up the pace as the giant crane at the far end of the docks began to move up the yard, moving up to carry the disabled Panther closer to the shop. The two scurried across the tracks far before it even got close, headed towards a hangar at the far end of the yard. In the distance, Itsumi could see the makeshift course they'd built for running the infantry through - an obstacle course built from tires, two-by-fours, thick wooden dowels and of course, plenty of rope. Most of the infantry was made up of boys - though a few of them were girls, just not nearly as many - and many of the girls had been placed in officer positions. It was like boot camp how they were running this course, climbing up rope nets, crawling under wooden ladders that had been laid out atop tires and then running through even more tires before tackling a dummy at the end of all that. Not since arriving here had she seen Sensha-do training quite so… intense. But her attention was drawn from the assault course as Rommel opened a small side door on the hangar the course was set up in front of. Rommel looked over her shoulder and with a nod, whilst holding the door open, ushered Itsumi inside. Rommel then entered after her, shutting the paneled door behind her with a clatter one might expect from a dropped trashlid.

The interior of the hangar was… rudimentary at best. There were makeshift walls set up with littlemore than plywood and nails, making up some kind of minimalistic, ad hoc, interior. None of them were painted or colored, the leaving the ugly wood exposed while within the frame of wood - not even an inch thick - were the bunks and facilities used to house players. From the exterior of this interior-exterior there were already signs of customization - sort of - with drawings marked onto the wood paneling, some expressing a… distaste for the duration that they were being housed here. One extreme example of graffiti compared the conditions to concentration camps, but this was scribbled out with various other colors of paint and marker - indicating this was likely not a very popular sentiment. True to her guess, there was another tag next to it that simply read; "Crybaby".

There was still plenty of open room outside of the roofless wooden lodgings, though there was little in the ways of objects of interest aside from plenty of foldable plastic chairs and a large white screen at the far end of the hangar - used for projecting instructional videos and the likes.

"Guys! Where are you?!" Rommel called out, cupping a hand next to her mouth, then reaching up to remove her cap, tucking it under her shoulder. Then as loudly as if they were right next to them, some one, male, shouted back.

"Other side of the lodge!" they shouted, their voice echoing and reverberating off the exposed metal panels of the hangar walls. With nothing to absorb the sound, every sound made within the structure could be heard from across it. It was a wonder that anyone was able to get even a wink of sleep in these conditions. Itsumi hoped things would prove better on the Rommel than here. Even their footfalls echoed loudly through the hangar as their shoes boots clacked against the concrete floor.

On the other side of the housing lodge, on some of the plastic chairs, sat a group of about two dozen boys. Scattered around them, in their carry-gear and standing upright on stands or just being laid out flat were various musical instruments ranging from drums, flutes, triangles, trumpets and trombones and virtually every other bell and whistle that one might expect from a marching band. "You boys decided on a marching song yet?" Rommel asked, resting a hand on her hip, at the top of her _almost _knee length pleated skirt.

Some of the guys looked at one another, then finally, they all looked towards their officer, one of the boys that Itsumi had been keeping an eye on since arriving. Klaus Dietrich smirked and stood. He donned a similar officer's uniform to that which Rommel wore, both heavy in black and silver, though with Klaus donning trousers instead of a skirt. Both of their uniforms sported red outlines along their pockets and sleeves, though only Rommel wore a cap. Rommel never really seemed fully comfortable in the uniform, but the way Klaus moved and presented himself, he almost appeared to revel in it. If that wasn't enough, he'd even gone out of the way to wrap a red scarf around his bicep, he seemed like someone Allia might like… but for both Erikas, he just came off as _scummy_ which was putting it mildly.

"Of course mein Kommandant." he remarked, extending both arms in a sort of _here I am _fashion, his shit-eating grin never leaving his face. Even his tone sent ripples of disgust down Itsumi's throat, it was all she could do to resist making a revolted expression. Rommel simply rolled her eyes, motioning for him to continue, seeming to not want to dignify his attitude with a verbal response. Klaus then scooped up a few sheets of paper from an empty chair, turning back around and approaching Rommel with a haughty step. "There are two that we thought you may like. The choice is _yours _Kommandant." he said, an utter lack of subtlety in his tone. Upon closer inspection the papers he handed her were music sheets. He extended an arm, offering the papers to Rommel, who looked down at them for a moment, then shot a sideways glare back up at him, shifting her eyes up to the top of her sockets to stare him down before aggressively snatching the papers out of his hand. Itsumi peered over her shoulder as she flipped through the music pages. He said they'd found two songs, or rather pieces, that would be appropriate, but the stack seemed a little thick for just two musical pieces. The first; Panzerlied was eyed over with nervous hesitation. It was good, but given the divisive atmosphere that German Sensha-do was causing, perhaps it wasn't the best choice. That wasn't to say it was a bad song, it just… probably would end up inflaming things. Rommel flipped the page over and Itsumi tore her eyes from the page, shooting daggers at a smug looking Klaus, he knew what he'd done. Rommel seemed to have the same opinion as she shot thin knives up at Klaus as well, casting _Erika _to the side without so much as pausing to consider it. Itsumi had bore through the song a few times, though she saw it a little differently than Rommel. To Itsumi, that was _her _song. It was special to her and no one else could claim it in the manner that they were using it for and she knew exactly that Klaus had intended it to be directed at Rommel. Perhaps as some form of buttering up, or something equally as fuck-boyish.

Klaus didn't seem too pleased by the discarding of the song, his expression turning from smug arrogance, to annoyed judgement. Then he seemed to notice for the first time, the very thing Itsumi had noticed earlier, the stack _had _been far too thick for just two pieces. He slotted both hands into his trouser pockets and cocked his jaw as Rommel moved onto the last page. "Hmm," she mused, holding it to the side for Itsumi to get a better look at it. Itsumi nodded, it was an older piece, but she could see where Rommel was coming from; nothing to do with Nazis. "Who put this one forward?" she asked, holding up the page for Preußens Gloria.

The two looked around, scanning for anyone that dared put their hand up. Not a soul. Itsumi glanced stealthily at Klaus, who had his head cocked back, looking over his shoulder, scanning his own troops. It seemed none of them wanted to claim responsibility for fear of their officer what with the sudden nervous tension that permeated through the hall. Then a light cough got her attention. She - and several others for that matter - turned their attention towards the plywood housing frame in the middle of the hangar, immediately next to them really, to see a blonde, blue eyed boy of average height with cute swept and flipped hair. He wore his grey _heer _uniform well, though his insignia was that of the an NCO, a Sergeant. Itsumi cocked a brow, her gaze snapping right back to Rommel who looked mildly surprised to see him standing there; she seemed to be familiar with him.

"Peter?" she asked, though the German pronunciation of the name was initially more drawn out with the first syllable being held longer and the second one shortened. "This your doing? I didn't take you for one with a musical ear."

Itsumi squinted back towards the boy, eyeing him over again as she shrugged. He seemed to be caught between a regal arrogance that Klaus held, and awkward, nervous goof as he leaned against the plywood panels. His posture said one thing while his expression, one that conveyed perhaps a little bit of timidity and social awkwardness said the complete opposite. "Err, no, I'm not. But I thought that perhaps, something from an older time might be more suitable." he replied, then shot a quick glance at Klaus before muttering under his breath - though Itsumi was unable to make out what that was from her current distance. Regardless, Rommel seemed to approve of the sheets that Peter had snuck in, she turned to face the band, holding up them up.

"This is what our standard theme will be, at least for formal occasions, what you play in your own time to get pumped up is whatever you want it to be, but when we enter a match, this is what we will be marching to." she ordered, holding the sheets out to Klaus, who seemed none-to-happy to be one upped by the prissy kid to his right. He scoffed, but took the papers back without so much as another word.

The two stared at one another for a moment, the glare that Rommel shot at Klaus bore into him, its intent was crystal clear; _I'm in charge._ Itsumi could have added a few piece words to that if it had been her place, but even if it hadn't been, she herself knew when one had to be put in their place. Itsumi quickly scanned Klaus' uniform before putting thought to words; "Consider showing your commanding officer a little respect in the future, Lieutenant." if she'd made any attempt to hide the venom in her tone, she most definitely failed. Good thing she hadn't, intent on making her own tone just as clear as Rommel's.

"What was that you little runt?" Klaus hissed at her, "You're not even part of this _team_, what gives you any right to speak to a guy like me in that manner?" Itsumi bit her tongue, oh she could think of a few things.

"Stand down Klaus." Rommel ordered. "If you cannot respect authority, then perhaps you shouldn't have any." she threatened, which promptly got him to shut up as his gaze shifted from Itsumi to Rommel, nervous at first. He took a step back from Itsumi, a blank look upon his face as he gave Rommal a stiff nod.

"Ja Kommandant." he replied, no emotion in his voice.

Then mirroring his tone, Rommel nodded stiffly. "Then, as you were. You have your orders." she turned about, beckoning Itsumi to follow. She followed after, marching about a pace behind her. Itsumi looked over her shoulder just in time to see a pissed off looking Klaus turn his aggravated gaze towards Peter, who nervously shot a glance towards the band. "_Feldwebel_ Hindenburg, come as well." Rommel then ordered, extracting the sergeant from this treacherous situation as he jogged after the two to catch up.

Once the three were out of line-of-sight, Rommel emitted a snirk, half-raising a fist towards Peter, who did the same, the two bumping their fists together as they left the hangar. The three stepped back out into the sun - now out of ear shot as well, Peter spoke freely. "Someone needed to take him down a notch. Arrogant bastard."

Itsumi nodded, Klaus was someone she'd been keeping an eye on, not so much out of interest, rather to make sure he didn't get into trouble. "How'd he even get to Lieutenant if you've the say on officers?" she asked, with Rommel turning her attention from Peter to Itsumi. She shook her head and gave her an exasperated look. Rommel shrugged slightly, throwing a hand up above her shoulder as she did. "Before I officially was given overall command of the team, our local instructors were the only ones in charge of rank. Once I became Kommandant, then I became the one with overall authority to promote or demote based on how I saw fit. I've not yet found the resolve to demote Klaus - he's good, but that's not an excuse. Honestly, I wanted to slug him right there in front of his boys." Rommel shook her head with a scoff through closed teeth. "If he pipes off again, he's getting busted though."

Itsumi nodded, "Good. A guy like him…" she trailed off, really, in her experience, boys just didn't have a place in Sensha-do, but in the west that rule of thumb seemed to have gone out the window.

"Eh, while I won't vouch for him, Rommel, I have to tell you." Peter started, getting the two girls attention. "A lot of the guys around here _are _getting annoyed that that they have such little influence around here. The way a lot of them have been seeing it, you girls get all the glory through the tanks you operate, after all, the sport _is _called _Panzer_kraft, for a reason." he explained, using the German term for Sensha-do. "They feel we're going to be stuck relegated to dirty grunt work while the girls all get the fame and reputation while we're just remembered as back-benchers, if that."

Rommel nodded slowly. "I see." she replied, sounding neither upset, though not particularly joyed to hear this.

"Look, some of them, are being a bit louder than others, more… radical. And, while I can't support them, I also find myself not entirely disagreeing with some of them. In the end, are we just paint shields and manual labor to you? That kind of thing." Peter finished, taking on a tone that demanded some degree of empathy. Even Itsumi had to reason that if she'd been stuck in such a situation - after the prospect of operating a tank in one of the greatest sports to mankind had been extended to her and then _not _getting to operate a tank - she'd be a little pissed off too.

Rommel seemed to display some degree of sympathy as well. She extended a hand from behind her back, clasping it down on Peter's shoulder and letting her other hang freely by her side, casually. "For that it's worth I'm sorry, but as far as I know I can't assign male tank crews. It's just… not something I've ever heard of." she quickly glanced over her shoulders both ways. "If it were entirely up to me, I'd say go for it. But… I'll talk to the DPKL wigs and see if it's even possible. Till then, I need to ask - beg you - to keep this all contained for just a little longer." she wasn't angry, but she almost sounded pleading, leaning into him a bit. It seemed the two were at least friends, the way they conversed, they held an almost casual air among them despite the situation.

Peter nodded, waving Rommel down as he tried to get a bit of space between him and her. "I'll try, but…" he trailed off, then jabbed his head in the direction of the hangar door behind him.

"Don't mind Klaus, not for much longer anyways. I've a pair of papers to fill out as well, I'll do that when I go talk to the DPKL." Rommel replied. Itsumi raised a brow, turning her gaze towards Rommel. What was she thinking?

Peter sighed lightly, glancing back towards the hangar. "Until then… Peter, come. We've plenty of unmanned light tanks… if I can get you into one, how would you react?"

Peter suddenly went wide eyed as he snapped his gaze back to Rommel, his mouth slacking open a little bit. He quickly shook his head and knocked the befuddled visage off his face. "Uhhh… I'd say, hell yeah." even Itsumi was a little shocked by this.

Rommel chuckled warmly, "C'mon then, also, Erika!" her stern persona of authority seemed to melt away as she jabbed finger guns towards Itsumi; the difference in how she came off was astounding. One moment she was stone faced, sharp and perhaps even a little scary with the way her gaze bored into you, but once she lightened up, smiled and laughed, those sharp edges seemed less likely to cut you and she didn't feel like such a hardass - like she would headbutt you and possibly shatter your skull. "Come with us as well. A Panzer II needs a crew of three."

Itsumi cocked her head, for a moment, still trying to figure out what just happened. "Uhhh…" but really, what else was there to think about? "Sure!" even her own stern demeanor softened slightly - though not quite to the extent that Rommel's had. Officers just had that effect on their subordinantes she guessed. The demeanor and attitude of their officers could reflect on those they commanded. The three took off on a brisk jog towards the makeshift motor pool they'd set up in one of the hangars, there they'd find the tank they were looking for. They might just take it for a spin, buuuut, Itsumi wouldn't mind getting a few shots in herself - it had been a few weeks since she'd gotten to personally feel the kick of a tank firing their guns off. And that just simply wouldn't do.

* * *

**Meanwhile… Paris, France.**

Jess twiddled her thumbs as she lay atop the rear of her Easy Eight, her tank at rest just to the side of the train that had lugged it from Le Havre to Paris. The trainyard was utterly bustling with activity. The yard was large, but even so you could hardly go a couple feet without bumping into someone. But she could handle crowds, something else had been eating at her since yesterday morning. It had been eating at her the entire train ride and that metaphorical crunching had also caused her to have something of a troubled sleep. As if that wasn't bad enough, a heat wave was passing through the city, raising the temperature up to nearly ninety degrees - roughly thirty celsius. While waiting for the parade to start, Jess had removed everything that wasn't necessary for basic decency, which unfortunately, wasn't much. Due to a formal dress code for the parade, she only had an underlayer consisting of a white t-shirt. This left her in a tight green pencil skirt - which looked rather strange without her jacket, which she'd cast her tank jacket down atop the back of her tank and lay down across it to keep from burning herself from the searing hot green metal below her. Her chocolate bangs provided her with some optical shade from the sun above as she shut her eyes and blindly groped for her water bottle somewhere next to her; she was sure it was around here somewhere. Once she'd found it she popped the cap and just stuck the spout into her mouth, holding the bottle between her teeth, straight up vertical. She wouldn't mind drowning this way. No, that would actually kinda suck - she used her tongue to block the flow of water every now and then and breathed through her nose, repeating this until she bottle was empty. She was very disappointed once she was out, sitting up and brushing her brown bangs out of her eyes. "Aww…" she mumbled, then tensed up as someone lay a hand on the back of the tank behind her. She looked over her shoulders as Audrey pulled herself up onto the tank, all the while her hand was on the tank, her eyes wide as she repeatedly, rapidly, yelped;

"Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow!" before hoisting herself up onto the tank and squatting next to Jess, giving her hand a shake, blowing on them. "Heeey, Commander." Audrey whined out, her hand still burning, though her other was hidden behind her back.

Jess groaned and spun around, still seated, though she needed to adjust herself once she'd turned to face Audrey, to keep her skirt and jacket from bunching up or ripping. "Hey Audrey," Jess yawned out. "We good to go?"

"Almost." Audrey replied, pausing for a moment before tentatively exposing her free hand and slapping an American flag to the back of the tank, duct taping the dowel to the turret while the flag hung freely about two feet above the turret. Jess narrowed her eyes at Audrey. "Oh c'mon we're doing a parade! Let me have this!" Audrey wheezed out, pleadingly.

Jess passively panned around the trainyard where the tanks were being held, the British and Canadian teams were busy getting their own tanks and troops ready for the parade. Even the Canadians were throwing subtlety out the window, with their command tank, Jennifer's Cromwell, having two Canadian maple leaf flags lashed to the rear sides of the tank. The British on the other hand had painted a pair of huge Union Jacks on the side of their own command tank - Jacklyn's special Churchill tank, a Black Prince with its Firefly level QF 17 pounder and a larger turret to accommodate the bigger gun. Jess looked back to Audrey with a sigh. "Fine." she stated sleepily. "So, we know the parade plans yet?"

Audrey nodded, "Yeah, once we exit the yard, just follow the signs, It's going to be short, we're just passing the Arc de Triomphe before heading out to Verdun. Once the crowds start showing up, you'll have the right place." she replied. Jess shook her head;

"No, no, I mean the order of events, like… who is doing what?"

"Oh!" Audrey chirped, "Uh, yeah… so we're actually going first - we decided on Stars and Stripes Forever as our song for this, right?"

Jess nodded, it was either that or the Battle Hymn of the Republic, but they could use that another time. The former had been the American national march since 1987, so it just seemed more appropriate. "Alright, then it will be the British to - of course - The British Grenadiers-" something that Jess knew that the Scots weren't terribly happy about, with some, but not all, actually voicing a desire to march with the Canadians instead of the English. "-then the Canadians, to _The Great Little Army_, with lastly the French, who elected to go last mind you, to _thankfully not the Onion Song_ \- rather, _Marche Royale de France_, which… I _think _is a Napoleonic era song? Anyways, they chose to go last because their marching band wanted to play a separate piece while hanging around the Arc de Triomphe - something about the French army marching band playing Daft Punk in 2017…"

Jess chuckled quietly, she remembered seeing that on YouTube. Though she wondered what the frenchies were up to. Then from the other side of the tank; "Hey gir- YEOWCH!" someone shrilly screamed, followed by the clattering of plastic to the ground. Jess knew who it was, jumping slightly as she turned her gaze to see Kay recoiling from the tank, having just dropped an array of plastic water bottles to the ground and was now frantically shaking her left hand. "Holy crap! How the hell are we getting into these things?!" she exclaimed, squatting down to pick up one of the bottles, feebly opening it up with her seared hand and dumping a little bit of water onto it. Jess tore her gaze away from Kay, her face was already red enough from the heat, how much redder could it get anyways. She shook her head, rising and picking her jacket up from the rear of the tank, throwing it over her shoulders. As she buttoned it up she forced out a single chuckle.

"Painfully." she remarked, half-joking as a smirk played across her lips, she shook her head yet again. "Try using your jacket sleeve, it's not perfect but at least it gives you a few seconds." She found it hard to look Kay in the eye now, since yesterday morning when she'd walked past Kay and Naomi talking along the pier. That look that Naomi had given her, urging her to move on, but she'd heard enough.

"God, we're going to boil alive inside this thing!" Kay whined, picking the water bottles back up and setting them atop the rear of the tank. Both hatches of the turret and hull had been left open to provide as much ventilation as possible - the extra hatch on the turret was something that Jess herself was very grateful for over the regular M4. Though that wasn't the only solution that they'd come up with. Whitney soon popped her head out of the turret through the commander's hatch.

"Oh it's bad in here, but trust me when I say, it could be worse, at least you weren't in here an hour ago, trying to install a fan array." she remarked, her brow, neck, exposed arms all glistening with sweat, her jacket non-present and her white t-shirt sleeves having been folded over up to her shoulders. "And even worse, I'm a _fucking _ginger!" she added. "Heat and I… do _not _get along nicely!" her eyes then darted past Kay, who was in the process of painfully hoisting herself up onto the back of the Sherman. She reached a hand out towards the water bottles behind her. "Now. Gib me… gib, gib." she whined, flailing her arm - far out of reach of the delicious, probably already warm water. Jess grabbed a pair of bottles, handing one to Whitney as she gingerly climbed up onto the turrets and ducked inside - Whitney had done a pretty good job setting the fans up, each of them at an angle appropriate for providing some degree of a cooling breeze for each of the occupants. Then, interrupting Whitney's greedy gulping next to her as she downed her water in record time, Jess's radio crackled. She reached down and picked her headset up off the floor of the turret and slid it over her head. She hit the receiver;

"Hello?" she paused for a moment, waiting for a reply.

"Ah, Jessie, we're all set up here." came her mother through her headset. "As commander of the American team, you will lead them through the route. Now, we'll be starting shortly, so get your team ready."

After her mother's reply, Jess hit the receiver; "Alright, rounding them up now, is there a specific marching order or…?" she asked.

"Well you first obviously, then your tanks, followed by the foot units." the boys, she meant the boys and any of the girls who had opted into playing infantry - though the American team was also presenting a compliment of their sea cadets, those who were learning to operate the USS Eisenhower alongside official naval personnel. Thinking on this made Jess wonder if there would be any Germans present, German sea cadets perhaps that were learning the workings of The Rommel, though she hadn't seen any on land. "At least that would be optimal, we don't want you running over anyone."

Jess snirked quietly without holding in the receiver. No, that would be bad, it's just that she didn't think there was much of a possibility of anyone with any semblance of spacial awareness getting run over by an imposing metal giant moving at a walk's pace. "Alright. I'll gather everyone up." she replied, "Out." before switching to her team's channel. She reached over and lightly tickled the back of Whitney's knee, causing her to yelp in surprise.

"Whaaaaat?" she whined, ducking back down into the turret.

Jess placed a hand over one of her headphones, turning to look at Whitney on the other side of the gun. "Make a call for everyone to form up by the gates behind us, I'm relaying orders to other commanders, we're going to get this underway." she said, half-assedly attempting to button her jacket up with her free hand and doing a piss-poor job of it. Fumbling with the buttons and their slits with one hand was a pain in the ass, she'd leave it for later.

"Oh, right." Whitney replied, wiping a streak of sweat off her cheek before unfolding her sleeves and pulling her jacket off the back of the gun, tossing it over her shoulders and standing back out of the turret while trying to button it up blind. As she started bellowing Jess's orders, demanding people move out of the way - tanks were about to get moving. Jess herself began to relay the same through her headset.

"All units, marshal at the main gate behind my tank, I want the heavier tanks at the front, lighter tanks towards the back. Infantry will line up behind those, sea cadets you will form up behind them." she didn't bother waiting for a reply, rather, her mind was torn elsewhere as Whitney climbed out of the turret - her footsteps echoing over the hull as she slid down the front of the turret with a noticeable yelp before ducking into the driver's back into the turret and made way for the gunner and loader. Audrey then slid in through the very same hatch, with Kay entering after her, the two orienting to get into position.

"Alright, you good to go?" Kay asked, turning to face Jess once she'd taken position. She was in a similar state as the others, face glistening with sweat and a bit red in the face. Even so, she had that usual confident and go-get-em smile on. Jess was glad that it was so hot in here, at least then she had an excuse as to why she was so red.

Jess nodded, "Yeah." she replied, quick and to the point, standing back out of the commander's hatch. She adjusted her headset before opening the tank's internal communications; "Alright, back it up P.D." she said, looking over her shoulder at the asphalt behind them, finding it clear.

The tank's engine roared to life and there was a few moments where it just sat there. Then the tank lurched into action, slowly creeping back several meters as Jess made sure nobody got into the way. Though once Whitney was able to see where she was going, she took over navigation, shifting forward and turning the tank around to face the fence. "Yeah, yeah." Whitney mused, still adamantly refusing her nickname.

The tank rolled forward to the gates of the trainyard, stopping just before rolling out onto the road. Jess turned about, looking behind her to see the other American tanks begin to line up in twos. The road they'd be following was - right out of the gate - cordoned off, so they could roll down either lane two-by-two. Jumping on the radio, Jess relayed orders to the other tanks. "Alright, so line it up two-by-two, heavier tanks in front, lighter in back. Err, with one exception, Mary, put your Jumbo in the back by itself. Miho, I know it's not _your _tank persay, I know you're bummed, but put the M5 next to the M3. And Ramirez, put the Chaffee next to the Crusader. Yeah… looks a little weird, I know, but we'll make do." it took a while, but eventually everything was sorted out with the majority of the Shermans towards the front and the rear being made up of the light tanks - the Stuarts, Chaffee and Crusader. Miho's team had sort of been split up, rather her team and a few other Japanese girls were relegated to manning the Stuarts in the rear, while the Chaffee and Crusader were immediately in front of them. Then the M4, M4A1s and M4A3, all in all giving them a nice round dozen tanks for the parade. This was to be followed by the company of roughly a hundred and sixty infantry players and then the company of about two-hundred sea cadets. Their formation went back a fair ways, long enough to make this whole parade worthwhile, but not so much that it seemed like they were overcompensating. Because as Audrey would have said; "Overcompensating? We have no need." or something to that effect.

"All units, move out!" Jess ordered and her tank began to roll onto the road with her team following behind. They rolled through the streets, which initially were empty, only a few patrolling police officers making sure that no civilian cars got in the way, but eventually, once the crowds along the road were encountered, then it was time to start things off right. It was also here that the American band started their tune; playing The Stars and Stripes Forever. The crowds that had gathered were at least good sports, some applauding and cheering, but Jess was willing to bet that this would pale in comparison to their home French team's reception. She'd yet to even meet any of the French players - though the Canadian commander Jennifer Snow had returned from an outing in Paris saying she'd met with the French commander Marcelle Francois. Their song ended as they approached the Arc de Triomphe, though they didn't actually march through it. They rolled around the Arc, as marching through the actual arch was considered to be a sign of great disrespect for the _Unknown Soldier_. A tradition started in 1919, after the French laid down a tomb for an anonymous French soldier who'd given his life for France in World War One. As their piece ended, Jess could hear The British Grenadiers playing in the distance behind them as the Brits followed them, getting louder as the American team slowed down after passing the Arc.

The hatch next to her opened up and Kay emerged from the tank, letting her hair down as she exhaustedly panted out a groan… taking a moment to breath before quietly muttering. "Hey…" Jess almost didn't hear it. For a moment Jess pretended not to hear it. She sighed in her head, no, that would just make her a bitch. She turned her gaze to Kay.

"Y-yeah?" she stammered out. Hesitant to look Kay in the eye. "You doing alright?"

"No, no not really…" Kay uttered, splaying her top half out across the top of the turret - which was fine, since they were passed the point of being formal - most of the crowd was back towards the Arc. She pushed up off the turret with a sigh. "But… I gotta ask you something." here it came, Jess was sure of it. "What's-..." she trailed off. Jess hesitantly shifted her eyes to the side, trying to covertly observe Kay's emotions. She saw Kay shake her head. "Nevermind." she then shifted her gaze away from Jess.

Jess bit her lower lip. She was pretty sure - positive - she knew what Kay was going to ask. Damn it, there was no way this tension was going anywhere without being addressed. This wasn't something she needed before a major match. "Kay." Jess started. "I heard what you said the other day." she didn't even have to look to feel Kay's gaze shift back to her, didn't need to even look at her to see the shocked, embarrassed expression on her face.

"O-ooohhh shit. I uh… can explain." Kay offered, trying desperately to cover her ass, only to make her sound more the fool.

"No, no it's fine. I'm flattered. But… I don't want this awkward tension tying us down through the match ahead. So… ask your question Kay." Jess stated, putting her cards out on the table. She was an open book, ready to take whatever Kay threw at her.

"Well, I wanted to say this earlier, but… well…" there was another brief pause, Kay loudly inhaling through her nose before exhaling just as deep and loud. "After our match, well, would you care to, perhaps, uh… do something?" she asked, shutting her eyes as she forced the words out, only opening them to furrow her brow. "That sounded a lot less dumb in my head."

Jess chuckled in response, not as dumb as she was being. While she had started to come to terms with the possibility, she hadn't fully reached a one-hundred percent conclusion yet. But… what the hell? Why not take that leap? "Sure. Kay. I wouldn't mind hanging out after our match, getting to know my uh, loader one-on-one?"

Kay's face blushed red and she stared forward, her eyes dipping down towards the asphalt. "Well, when you put it that way, it sounds a lot less stupid." Kay then emitted her own chuckle, shaking her head as she burst out giggling. She rubbed a hand behind her head as a shit-eating grin grew across her lips. "Oh, god… was that it?"

Jess glanced to the side, checking the pedestrian density. It was nowhere near as thick as it had been closer to the Arc. Her attention could safely be directed Kay's way. "I… think it was." she replied, giggling back in kind. "We don't even need to think of it like… _y'know _like _that._ For now, it's just two friends, getting to spend some quality time with one another." she reasoned, causing Kay's blush to lessen as she seemed to rationalize the situation. She nodded back.

"Yeah. I can deal with that for now. Easy going." she replied. "Nothing special."

Of course, they were downplaying it, but whatever made the situation more palatable and easier to digest. The two shared another chuckle at one another's expense. They'd played up this moment so much when really, Naomi was right, it was nothing special. It was just a part of life. "Let's focus on kicking ass in our upcoming match first shall we?" Jess offered, getting a single, grin-bearing chuckle from Kay. She jabbed a fist towards Jess, giving her a solid thumb up.

"Oh, I can do that. And while we're at it, let's make sure that we don't get too caught up in the atmosphere, alright?" Kay replied, though that last part was sort of lost on Jess. Whatever did she mean by that? She almost facepalmed. Right, they would be playing on a Verdun style course. Jess nodded back in response, smiling back.

Then, a haunting sound flowed across the wind from the Arc behind them in the distance. The British and Canadians were almost on their heels, well, sort of, given there were a bunch of foot units in the way. But they'd all finished their rounds - the only ones missing were the French. In the distance she swore she heard violins and various wind instruments playing. The tune was unfamiliar to her. Then the beat dropped and she heard the all female vocals echo through the trees that lined the street.

"_As the drum roll started on that day - Heard a hundred miles away. A million shells were fired - and the green fields turned to grey. The bombardment lasted all day long - Yet the forts were standing strong. Heavily defended, now the trap's been sprung and the battle's begun!" _They were doing an orchestral version of a recent Sabaton song, it was both beautiful and epic. _"Descend into darkness… Three-hundred-three days below the sun - Fields of Verdun! And the battle has begun, nowhere to run, father and son, fall one-by-one, under the gun, thy will be done and the judgement's begun - Nowhere to run, father and son, fall one-by-one, Fields of Verdun!"_

And to think, that was where they were headed. Jess looked forward, spotting to her left the assembly area they were to congregate once passing the Arc. Heavy duty transport trucks lined up along the road, ready to load up with their heavy machinery. It wasn't much further now. The first major tankery action in the West in thirty years. To be held on those very fields where the French had stood and defiantly proclaimed _they shall not pass_. She wasn't sure how she felt. Honored. Worried. Disturbed. Conflicted.

Jess shook her head. No matter what conditions they ran into, whoever they were teamed up with and whoever they faced, she'd lead her team to victory. She had to. Afterward, she could look forward to her reward. She exchanged coy glances with Kay, quietly giggling to herself. She just knew, Kay felt the same.

Hopefully.

* * *

**07/06/2019, Bulletin: Seeing as I stupidly started another fic while this one was in progress, I've been thinking. The reason I came back to Fanfiction was a desire to get a name for myself again after a long absence as well as a curiosity; that is I wanted to know if my new style is any good (or if it's shit), with a desire to improve regardless. I want to do this professionally (writing that is), so while I don't want to be **_**that** _**kinda creator, constructive reviews (good or bad), follows, favorites and a general display of interest means more chapters. It may sound like bullshit, but if I'm not getting feedback, then half the reason for me coming back to Fanfiction is moot. I hope you understand. With that said, I am working on the next chapter, so that will come out regardless of activity. But some feedback would be nice guys, is 100k+ words not enough? (I'm not salty... okay maybe a little.)**


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